Good Luck, Benvolio
by Vellev
Summary: Benvolio, a character commonly overlooked. Has anyone ever wondered why he just doesn't show up in the second half of the play. Shakespeare had a reason. There will be slash.
1. Now Is the Hot Blood Stirring

**Now Is The Hot Blood Stirring**

*_* I do add some lines that aren't in the original Shakespeare...sorta where I want. I recently played Tybalt in a school production, and...I _needed _to write this. It's Benvolio's perspective on the play. There are some interesting things about his character; he _never _finds out that Romeo is in lone with someone other than Rosaline, and thinks that he is for the whole play. True stuff. Rated M for later chapters. BL in later chapters. Rate and Review (and rant), as they say. *_*

This world I live in has an abundance of violence. Everywhere I may happen to turn, another one dies. No, I know it will never end. It _cannot _end. This world holds the one figure for starting the most riots, the most injuries, the most deaths. This world is one will of hatred. More hatred than I, Mercutio, Romeo, Tybalt, Lord Montague, the Prince, anyone could stop. And if we try, why more fuel to the fire, as they say.

I suppose I shall begin the story of my end where there is a sensible beginning, and I suppose the only sensible way to begin a story is at the beginning. May I begin?

Now, those past lines I spoke were lies. Yes, you all know, I am the last one you'd think to lie. Oh, but I do. It is mortal existence, right? To evade our problems with what we'd hoped happened? With what we wish could?

Sadly, there is no beginning. If there is, not one earthly being knows it. These two houses have hated the other forever. Since ever. Why? No one will ever know. It is forgotten knowledge, though well supported. Montagues and Capulets hate each other, and that, dear readers, is final.

Now, I suppose every story must have a beginning, and I am rambling on a bit too long, my hearts. So I suppose I shall start from the third and next to last battle that was discovered by the Prince in Verona's walls between Montague and Capulet.

It started with Capulets. I'd been there, it was a busy market place. They'd been jaunting around, merry-making and laughing as I have been with Balthazar and Abraham at the time. Our paths crossed, as they so often do...

"Do you bite your thumb at us sir?" I heard our man growl, just under his breath. To two Capulet guards.

"I do bite my thumb, sir." The Capulet retorted, to the audience of market-goers around us.

"Do you bite your thumb _at us_, sir?" Abraham said, taking the front seat on the argument. They called each other 'sir' as the servants were noble. I couldn't help stammer a laugh as that was something Mercutio would've been bound to comment on if the nephew of royalty had been there.

"Is the law on our side if I say yes?" He asked his friend.

"No!" He said, and I practically whispered, not being able to help it.

"No, sir. I do not bite my thumb at you sir." He paused, and I sighed, it was all good. Oh, but it wasn't. "But I do bite my thumb. _Sir._" The Capulet said, laughing.

"Do you quarrel, sir?" The other Capulet guard spoke, obviously trying to tear his friend away from the argument. Good man for thinking that. Not all Capulets must be stupid.

"Quarrel, no!" Abraham said, almost screaming it out to the people at the market to make a point he wasn't trying to start something.

"Cause if you do, sir, I am for you, sir." The Capulet guard said, his hand twitching on his sword's hilt. "I serve as good a man as you." He said. That was one moment I knew it was all over. The man was saying Lord Capulet was as good as Lord Montague, something he _knew _Abraham wouldn't stand for. He was making Abraham disagree with him.

"No better." Abraham said calmly. Thank the heavens. This would've gotten sticky if he hadn't agreed. But he said it almost questioningly...leaving it open for the guard to disagree, and start a riot.

Then one guard spoke to the other in a hushed tone, and motioned to Lord Capulet himself coming to a balcony up above. "Better." The guard said with hatred, and Abraham unsheathed his weapon and clanked swords with the other guard.

Within seconds I had separated their blades with my own. "Part, fools! You know not what you do!" I hissed, hoping they would understand. And in truth, they didn't know what they were doing. If Prince Escalus found a third fight on Verona's streets, it would be death for us all.

"Turn thee, Benvolio, and look upon thy death." I whipped around at the sound of a voice. An all too familiar voice. I _loathed _that voice.

"I do but keep the peace." I said, fighting my own hatred not to kill the man in his spot.

"Hm?" He mumbled, taking his sword form it's sheath.

"Tybalt, I do but keep the _peace._" I snarled.

Now with his sword at hand, he put down, and went so close to my face I could feel the warmth of his breath. "What, drawn, and talks of peace?" he said, touching his sword to mine. "I hate the word as I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee!" He spat, and lifted the sword to my cheek.

That was enough. I swept my own blade out at him, and he guarded it with expertise. I gasped for breath, and lunged at him, and he parried again, this time bringing my blade around, and throwing my arm and sword, all that was blocking me from his blade away, and made a long sweep with his sword. I jumped back, the blade missing my chest by barely centimeters. Wow, he was quick. But, damn, I must be good. No man fought this long with Tybalt Capulet and lived to tell the tale, all but Mercutio, of course. No time to get cocky, though, this was serious business. He thrusted, and I linked my foot with his leg, making his loose his balance, and almost stumbling over. "Hm." I breathed heavily, giving out something of a laugh, as the man fought to regain his balance. I hadn't been paying attention to him, though, and was clumsy. He grabbed my sword arm. I shoved it back, but he held tight. Shit, for such a skinny body he must have super-strength or something. Then, using my arm to shove my body back towards his, he kneed me in the gut, a little too close to my crotch, but thank God not, or else I would've been in some real pain. I stumbled back, but he held onto my wrist even tighter, not looking like he was going to let go. Through the pain, I tried to think of what I would do. But thankfully, the adrenaline pouring into my system thought—much better than it's famed to—for me. I dropped my sword, hoping that my body wasn't picking flight rather than fight for me. Be then using that hand, and grabbed his wrist backhand, and shoved him onto his knees, his arm twisted behind my back, and picking up my sword, feeling lucky to have been left handed originally. Got to thank learning for making me good with both hands, then, I suppose.

At that moment, Prince Escalus screamed in his high and mighty voice for us to cut it out. I tuned it out. I'd heard it all before. I was the one who wanted peace, but this damn...this damn..._Prince of Cats _always found a way to get on my last nerve and stay there like some type of parasite.

"Let go. 'All men depart', you heard it. Let go." The man beneath me said, and I let go of his arm, and he got up. He brushed his hands off. "Thanks a lot. Now I've got to relocate my shoulder again."

"Oh, you lost it? Maybe you should take care of your possessions better." A said, finally happy I'd actually come up with something Mercutio would say, when I wanted to say it, and really did say it.

"Tch." He said, and walked off, as I did.

Lord Montague along with his Lady pranced up to me, asking of where Romeo was. Their relationship had always been a strange one. When thought upon longer, a fate that all of us are bound to, marriage to some unwilling person whose love is bound to another. The Lady never loved to Lord, but was forced to, and Romeo was the child of that bond of law. A bond of hatred, so, as it seems that is where all sons or daughters of Montagues or Capulets are born from; not the womb, but the blood that stirs through their veins with hatred. Ha, I can just imagine Mercutio saying: "That would make out for some awkward sex..."

I told them where I had seen Romeo earlier that day sobbing about some love, and how much he loved her, it was the regular old Romeo. I nodded in agreement when they said they were happy he had not been involved in the fight. That made me think of Mercutio, he hadn't been there either, and he would fight at the drop of a coin. But, Romeo was not a fighter, no he was some type of lover. That made me laugh a little, too. Of the group of three, he was the one that didn't have a massive crush on one of the other, and _he _was the lover.

I bid the Lord and Lady goodbye, and made out near the sycamore trees to find the lovesick Romeo.

"Good morrow, coz." I greeted him. He walked through the trees, and glanced away from a leather bound journal he held in his hands with a pencil.

His eyes darted back to the book, then up to the clouded sky. "Is the day so young?"

I smiled, at Romeo's pure unknowing. "But new stuck nine."

"Sad hours seem long." He said, laughing at himself. He repeated it to himself a second time.

I knew the expression, 'time flies when you're having fun', was Romeo saying the opposite? "What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?" I asked. If he was depressed, it had to be about something.

"Not having that, which, having, makes them short." He said simply. Was it an object? You 'have' object. No, knowing Romeo this was...a girl? (Mercutio would make me add in) A guy?

I decided on "In love?" I asked, trying to sound like I didn't know.

"Out-" He dismissed.

"Of love?" I asked. Mercutio, you better than me for this.

"I'm out of her favour, where I am in love." A vow of never love? Or was she married? And _she _was a_ she_? Romeo finally looked at me. His eyes scanned me up and down, and then zeroed in on my sword. There was blood there. Tybalt's? I hadn't thought I'd hurt him... He gasped, and took it and unsheathed it, inspecting the blood. "What fray was here?"

"Tyb-" I started, but then he cut me off.

"Tell me not, for I've heard it all before." He said, and looked back into his book. I glanced from behind him. It was poetry. I shook my head. He started spouting on and on, about love being linked with hate. How the love he held for this girl had more to do with hate than it did love. Hate is how all relationships start, he should understand that. He _will _marry someone he hates. He'd Lord Montague's son, it's bound to happen. He won't marry for love, that's unheard of. True love only exists in the mind, and will go unspoken. "Still-waking sleep, this is not what it is!" True love lives in wet dreams, as does it does die upon waking. Then he looked at the sword still in this hand. "This love feel I," He looked to me, "that feel no love in this." And back to me. "Dos't thou not laugh?" He asked, sniggering at his own foolishness.

"No, coz, I rather weep." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sorry, Mercutio, you're not here, and he's all alone.

"Good heart," he said, looking at my hand, then too my eyes. And he looked into the sycamore grove. "At what?"

"At thy good hearts oppression." What could he do? What could I do? He was in an impossible love, and Romeo is a lover, he is fed by love.

He looked out into the sycamores again. "Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs. A fire, sparkling, in lovers' eyes. What is it else?" He asked, looking at me, and I motioned out to him to continue. I'd only loved one, and even I knew that my love was impossible. "A madness most discreet. A choking gall as preserving sweet." He stood up, brushed my hand off his shoulder, and bid me farewell.

"I'll go along with you." I said. Better not leave him to this ambling. He may run across some beastly Capulet fingers itching for a fight. "And if you leave me so, you do me wrong." I taunted.

"Tut. I have lost myself." He looked around the sycamore grove as we walked. "I am not here. This is not Romeo," He said, his hand on his heart. "He is some other where."

"Tell me, in sadness, who is that you love?" I begged. It wasn't Mercutio, no it couldn't have been. He said she...but, was there hope for him, as my own hope withered out?

"What?" He moaned. "Shall I groan and tell thee?" He didn't want to be pestered about lost love, but I needed to know, it that would be all he would talk of.

"Groan! Why, no." I said, sighing at his stupidity. "But, sadly, tell me who." I asked, begging again.

"In sadness, coz, I do love a woman." He said. I bit my lip, had be predicted that I hoped it was Mercutio. Did he know Mercutio loved him? Or did he thought I loved him?

"I aim'd so near, when I supposed you love." I said through ground teeth, begging that Mercutio thought not how I had. "Hath she sworn that she will live in chaste?" I asked.

"She hath." He said, and looked to his feet. "She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow do I live dead that live to tell it now." He said love and the loss of it was killing him. Think of me! Think of Mercutio! We've been in love—though secretly—for too long!

"Be ruled by me!" I stumbled through my words. "Forget to think of her." I said. Think of Mercutio!

He turned to me, face on. He threw his arms out, and said, somewhat sarcastically: "Oh, teach me how I should forget to think!"

I thought of Mercutio. I must give up love for his peace, and leave my own love to rot, and his, which I once wished mine, flourishes. "Give liberty unto thine eyes; examine other beauties!"

And with that, my hopes of love were as good as dead. My love for Mercutio is dead with those notes. I cannot love a man loved.

On a simpler being, a should not love a man at all.

"Other beauties? Benvolio, you do not understand! No woman in all of Verona can have such, such utter beauty than her. She is a goddess, as Cupid's arrow has stung her with beauty, and along with Diana's arrow with wisdom! She is a mix of qualities that can be found nowhere!" He said, now stepping onto the brick street.

"Found nowhere else in women." I pointed out.

"Ha!" He said, letting out an obviously fake laugh. "You kid, Benvolio. My angel could win in a contest of beauty to any god, whether it be man or woman."

Well, I could disagree with that. Mercutio did challenge the beauty of any god, of any angel, of any woman. His sense of complete masculine style, his carefree attitude to the world, in quick on his feet wit that no earthly man harbored, his graceful sword skills...no Mercutio was a beauty to be admired, but a human like I could never attain. "The Capulet party with have many people are great beauty, you may be surprised at your own love blind eyes."

"I am not blind from love, I see you as clear as I see the day." He exclaimed.

"Ah, but you see not the day during the night, do you? This woman has shielded your eyes like a blindfold, letting you not look on the beauty of the world!" I said, matching his tone.

"There is no beauty without her. No, the world is dark and horrid without her. I'd rather be banished, die, swear not to love, than have her refuse me. This world has ended, and there is no rebirth. God has left me." He said, almost screaming.

"Think of what the Friar would say to that!" I said, and punched his arm, lightly. "Anyway, if God has left you, love someone even God would not approve of!" 'A man...' I'd wanted to say, but didn't have the power to add it to the end.

*_* That did not go in the direction I was expecting it to. P.S. Tell me if I have any of the Shakespeare wrong, I'm going on it from memory, and hell, I was fucking Tybalt, I don't do shit. There will be action. At some point. Sorry if the fight was stupid, I wanted to write down exactly how I fought it -realization- ((My fuck, Tybalt fights in all but one fight in the show...points to whoever knows which one...)) But we had some epic fights with flips and shit, and they are too epic for any of you to be stealing. *_*


	2. Oh Loving Hate

**Oh Loving Hate**

*_* A servant...and...wow, I actually was writing something _I _made up and not just reciting Shakespeare, a revolution, ne? If the wording I use gets really not Shakespearean, sorry, I'm working by not going off the book but from memory. I said there would be something sexual...And there's not. There will be. Eventually. Not making any more promises. *_*

I made my way down the brick path with the lovesick fool, his going on and on about lost love. Does he understand that we al have experienced lost love? My entire life, my point is practically based off of lost love! I was told by my untold love to go find love for someone else! Romeo is on about pain of being rejected while his life is still free fro the grasp of one-sided love. "Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning!" I said. Mercutio, you are a fire, passionate and lovely, but in all, dangerous to the touch. "Take thou some new infection to thy eye, and the rank poison of the old will die!" And Mercutio was an infection to your eye. After falling in love with him, I cannot see any other person to love.

Romeo stopped in his tracks, and looked down, made a little "hmph" that sounded a tad bit like 'rank?' and then continued to walk in front of me.

I jumped to walk by his side. "Why, Romeo, art thou mad?"

He sighed. "Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented and—God-den, good fellow." he was cut off from misunderstanding my words by a young servant that came our way. He looked almost our age, and walked around completely confused.

The servant bowed slightly, and asked, "I pray, sir, can you read?" To both of us at the same time. Romeo sent him a little glare for interrupting our conversation, before I could even say I could read. The servant whipped around, to go ask another person.

Romeo, realizing his mistake, ran up to the servant, and said "Stay, fellow, I can read." and brought him back to where I stood. Then, Romeo proceeded to list the names of many nobles in Verona. I buckled slightly when he mentioned Mercutio. Romeo paused for a second after reading Rosaline's name, and I recognized the look on his face as love. We both cringed a little when he said Tybalt. "A fair assembly. Whither do they come?"

The servant merely answered: "Up."

"Whither?" Romeo asked again.

The servant said simply: "To supper, to our house."

"Whose house?" Romeo asked, getting caught up in the stupidity of it all.

"My _masters._" The servant said with venom.

"I asked you who that was before!" Romeo exclaimed, getting worked up over the servant.

The servant sighed, and finally let out the information. "The rich Capulet, if you be not of the house of Montague, come and crush a cup of wine." He said, shrugged, and walked away.

Romeo attempted following, but to no help. I grabbed his arm, and taunted him with a baby voice. "At this same feast of Capulets sups the fair Rosaline that thou so loves" and them energetically, "go thither and with and with an unattained eye, compare her face with some that I shall show, and I will make thee thing thy swan a crow!" I said, Mercutio was on that list, was he not? He probably wouldn't go...but if he knew that Romeo and I had been 'invited' he would. It would be perfect!

Romeo sighed, obviously not going to argue with me about this anymore. "I'll go along, no such sight to be show, but to rejoice in splendor of mine own."

"So we're going?" I said, making sure. If so, I would bound off with Romeo to Mercutio's house.

"Fine. We'll go." Yes.

I took his arm, this was perfect. We could mess around 'till the hour. Now to find Mercutio. He wouldn't be at his house, he never spends his time there.

So we wandered around Verona, trying to find the man. See, it was easy to find Romeo, he was either locked in his room with all the lights off, moping the sycamore grove, or wooing women in the market square. Where to find me? Well, that's simple, trying to find Mercutio.

"I can't see to find him anywhere." I said, flopping down onto a staircase of the Montague household.

"So then stop looking. We won't go to the Capulet feast, we won't start a fight, we won't get arrested, we won't get killed, and it will all be fine." Romeo said, following suit.

"Oh, you are going to that party tonight, Romeo, whether you like it or not." He was about to speak up and say he didn't like it, but I cut him off before he could speak. "Anyway, would I be the one to start a fight?"

"Tybalt." Romeo said, and gave me a look that I knew meant, 'yeah, you would.' I sighed. I probably would. "It's a Capulet party. If you didn't start one with Tybalt, Mercutio would."

"And you think you can tell the future, what do you thing you are, some type of witch? If you be so, have you come to torment me? Because you've done well, magical wench." I said, looking up into the sky, maybe it was just how cloudy it was, but the sky was beginning to get darker. Which meant we had spent close to...two and a half hours searching for Mercutio. Not like we had anything better to do.

"I can fortell your little plan to make me like someone else won't work." He said grumpily. And threw and apple that he must've gotten when we crossed through the market square to me.

"Oh, and how the hell can you tell that?" I asked, taking a bite of mine.

"So you mentioned, I've got the powers of a nymph." He said with a grimace.

"_There_ you are, Romeo, goddamnit, I've been looking for you all over Verona. You know, it seems like no one ever knows where to find you? Oh, and what was that about you being a nymph? Girly enough to be one." A familiar voice said above us.

"Mercutio, I think it's us who've been looking for you." I said, standing up and brushing myself off.

"Well I suppose that's why it was so fucking hard to find you. Okay, okay. I got a letter to a party. A _Capulet _one. I mean, why do they think _I, _Mercutio, would attend one of their idioticlittle feasts. I mean to say, if they are no unintellegint that they cannot notice I'm partial to you, I would've already killed the cat." He said laughing.

"Actually, we were planning on crashing that." I murmured. "But Romeo's not up to it."

"Why not, dreamer? I thought you'd a liked a party, especially after, ah, what's her name...Mary dumped ya last week." Mercutio said, taking the apple from Romeo's hand and eating it. Savor that apple Mercutio. Savor it. And take mine next time.

"Mary? No, that carrion is out of my sights already. I've gained a new love." Romeo said, looking out into the open.

I saw Mercutio give a little down-trodden look. "But-" I said, "But. Apparently she's taken a vow of chastity. So...why don't we take out little idiot to a party, where we can do and have some fun. Maybe he'll meet someone worthy of his love." I spewed out.

"No one but Roseline..."

"Oh, shut your trap about this stupid little harlot for half a second, will ya?" Mercutio said. I marveled at his amazing power to curse in every sentence he said. "So, it's a masked party, so I suppose, ya know, put on a little costume, and the works."

"We _need _to?" Romeo asked.

"Yeah, or the fucking Prince of Cat's 'll scratch your pretty little eyes out." He said, and then got up threw the apple onto the street, waved on arm in the air and said, "To my house, minions!"

I sighed and followed after him, laying my apple on the street. It was going to be a difficult night. As long as Mercutio was alive and happy, I suppose it's okay.

"My fucking gods and goddesses, you gotta wear this." Mercutio said, holding out a piece of black fabric.

"No."

"No, you don't get it, Rome, you gotta wear this." Mercutio said. "You'd look perfect."

"I told you, no." Romeo said, took the piece of black fabric from Mercutio's hands and threw it at me.

"Fine that, be that way. Benvolio, it wouldn't fit ya, but you can try 'at on if it pleases your peaceful little head." He said, and dived back into his closet. It looked like either Merc had been to a lot of masked balls, or he had serious plans with Romeo when he was finally his. I caught the fabric sorta lop-sided, and looked at it. A full on cat costume. I cracked up.

"It's a masked ball, all you have to do is wear a visage of the night, right?" Romeo said, peering inside the closet. "Or just not go..." He added onto the end in a whisper.

"No, are you a fucking idiot?" Mercutio said. Too important to hear Romeo's last words. "Oh wait, I forgot, you are." He said, laughing, more fabrics from Merc's closet flew and hit Rome in the stomach. Romeo picked it off and learned not to go close to Merc's closet.

Was that really the way you treat your crush?

"We could all dress like damsels. Never notice us then!" Mercutio said. Taking a dress out of his closet. Now I really wished I knew why that was in there.

"Don't be an idiot, Merc." I said. I picked something up off the ground. "Oi. Rome how about this?" I said. It was a pirate costume. I heard a little growl over from the closet. I had forgotten Merc hated me calling Romeo by his nickname.

"That ought to do. Hey, Merc how did you pass that over?" Romeo said, picking up the costume and inspecting it. "Oh, I wore that out a couple of days ago. Must've left it on the ground." I was a bit stunned.

a. If Merc went 'out', where, and could I get in?

b. Why was Merc going 'out' in a pirate suit?

"I got this Grim Reaper one, I've been waiting to wear it." Merc said, and stood back. It was the picture of death, a cape, a scythe, and even a black mask. "Ben, how about you?"

"Oh." I hadn't been thinking about that. "I dunno. You got anything interesting?" I asked, taking a step towards Mercutio's closet, then thinking the better of it, and returning to my spot sitting on his bed.

"Have I got anything interesting? Ben, this entire closet is interesting." He said, laughing. "Have I got anything that will pitch your wasted interest? I must say not..." He said, cracking up.

"Um, Mercutio, how about this." Romeo said, picking something that had been thrown at him during the bustle at Mercutio.

"That actually fits quite well, Rome, great job of doing the unexpected!" Mercutio said, "That said, you're getting back to your old sane self, aren't ya?"

His question went unanswered, as he threw a costume over to me. It was a gladiator outfit, pretty much a roman toga with a tragedy theater mask to go with it. "Nice, planning on going to Olympus?" I asked, spreading it out and getting a good look at it.

"Don't ask, you little prick." Mercutio said jokingly. "Okay, now that we've got that all sorted out, what do you guys say we do now?"

I looked at Romeo, who returned my look. I wanted to go home and take a nap, personally, and Romeo probably wanted to lock himself up in his house, turn off the lights, and write poetry.

"Well, I say we have a little pre-party drink! Who's with me!" Mercutio said, standing up.

I looked at him blankly, and from my peripheral vision saw Romeo doing the same. "We're in a castle, you don't think Uncle Escaclus has a couple of bottles hidden?" He said, stretching. Romeo spotted something on the swordsman's wrist.

"Oi, Mercutio, where did you get that?" He asked forlornly. For once, I agreed with Mercutio entirely about alcohol. We _needed_ Romeo drunk, he was just...not the average Romeo now.

"What? Oh, hadn't even noticed that." He said, pulling his sleeve down. "But, you, Rome, are coming with me." Mercutio said, grabbing Romeo by his collar like a mother cat, and dragging him off. "We'll be off finding my uncle's booze, Ben, do what you do best, and be the responsible one." And he exited dramatically.

I sighed. Mercutio was going to get drunk before a Capulet party, and probably blow our cover. I probably should've been angry because it would start the kind of fight that would make the prince kill us all. But for some reason, I wasn't scared of that. I was smiling, though I couldn't tell why. Mercutio was just being...such himself. And though Romeo was in his state of complete depression, and not himself at all. But this was how we acted, just put into actions. No, this was us. How we always were. I laughed a bit, and hoped I wasn't already drunk of my own thoughts. We were in our prime, and the world seemed to revolve around us. Everything was perfect. But then I thought of how easily it could changed, and frowned. There was immediate danger surrounding each and everyone of us. Whether it be arranged marriage, disease, or death in battle, it was centimeters from us at any and all times. We lived on the edge.

I lay down onto the bed, and laughed. And I supposed living on the edge was what made us so special! What made our friendship so...so awesome.

"Benvolio, what the hell are you doing?" I heard a familiar voice from outside the room. The door flew open, and there stood Mercutio, three bottles in his hands, followed by Romeo holding three glasses.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the dizziness from getting up too fast. "We are not drinking that much before a Capulet party." I said, from the bottles in hand arms to the smirk on his face.

"That, Ben, is where you are wrong. We _are_. It's wine, anyway, pretty good too." He pointed out, and sat, down on the ground. "Get over here, Romeo." He said, and took one of the bottles and poured some one the contents into a glass. Romeo respected what he said, and sat next to him. Mercutio poured a glass of the same drink to Romeo, and gave it to him. "What should we toast to?"

"I dunno," I said, and took the bottle from Mercutio's hand, and poured myself a glass, I saw that the bottle was almost empty. "Romeo's happiness?"

"Hell no." Mercutio said, laughing.

"More drinks?" I offered.

He shook his head again.

"How much life sucks?" Romeo said, shrugging.

"That aught 'ta do." Mercutio said, and lifted is glass up, motioning for us to do so as well. I saw his sleeve slip down, and a bloody somewhat raw ring around it. I wondered how he didn't know how he got that. "To Queen Mab!" He said, completely changing what Romeo said, and then downing his drink. He was a really drinker. I laughed. 'Queen Mab.' Pretty much like saying 'the whore, Candy'. Smooth, Merc. Smooth.

I followed, feeling the alcohol burn the back of my throat. I shut my eyes at the slight pain, and then smiled as I felt it warm in my chest.

Before we knew it half of the third bottle was gone. "Hey, hey..." Mercutio said, trying to get our attention.

"What?" Romeo answered. His face had gone red, and in his intoxicated state, he seemed back to his old self. I'd practically forgotten that he had been all mopey.

"Let's play Lords 'n Ladies." He said, and lifted up the bottle. Lords and Ladies was a game that pretty much involved a group of people drinking from a bottle, and whoever couldn't drink anymore first would have to kiss the one before them. In the original game, they would be so drunk they would have a pretend wedding. I almost cracked up, imagining Mercutio in wedding attire. Life does have its perks...

Romeo shook his head. "That's stupid. There are all 'Lords'." Then he looked around to double check, and repeated his sentence. "There _are _all men."

"That doesn't stop anything." He said, and looked at me, how had stumbled down from his bed and joined them on the ground. "Besides, Benvolio's as good as a girl, and as good a fighter as one, too."

"Am not." I said, stumbling over my words.

Then, out of nowhere, Mercutio grabbed Romeo's collar, and pulled him into a kiss. From where Benvolio could see, the kiss was very deep, and Romeo played right into Mercutio's arms, and even pulled Mercutio deeper into the kiss by grabbing the back of his neck.

Then I turned away, I couldn't look.

Oh..._fuck._ I stood up, and left the room. I whispered, "excuse me," but I doubt the two could hear. I ran to the bathroom, I knew where it had been, I'd been in Merc's house many times before, threw the door open, and puked into the toilet.

*_* Something happened...but not to Ben. Damnit. Also, if their nicknames piss you off, sorry, but I subconsciously type them. I really need to make these posts shorter, or else it will take me a very long time to write more...Who to blame? _You._ I've been reading fanfics all day. *_*


	3. Dreamers Often Lie

**Dreamers Often Lie**

*_* There will be yaoi...in the chapter after this. I feel like this story is going to be sorta short -is used to reading 20+ chapter fanfics- But the play of Romeo and Juliet does take place over so few days, and Benevolio suffers his fate soon, too. Wait, do you call it yaoi when it's not anime-based and there is story...Of fuck, whatever.*_*

I wiped the remaining remnants of upchucked alcohol from my mouth. It was disgusting. How could...how could they just kiss there, right in front of me? I wanted to punch Romeo. I seriously wanted to kill him right there, tear his eyes our, break his fingers, and rip out that heart that beat for girls all too often.

I hoisted myself up from the toilet, stumbling a bit as I felt dizzy from...from everything. I went to the sink, turned on the water, and washed my face.

Ugh. What am I thinking? Benvolio, you, of all people, know that violence is not the answer. It always leads to more danger.

Anyway, it's your own damn fault for not voicing your...feelings towards Mercutio. It's your own damn fault for harboring feelings towards him! Don't blame Romeo he's getting over a girl as he does _so _often! I can't even try to blame Mercutio...Blame the alcohol!

No, Benvolio, don't blame anything. There is no need to blame anything. What happened happened and you can't stop it. Blame started the world's problems. The Capulet and Montague families blamed each other. Adam and Eve blamed the snake. The world blamed Pandora. There was always a person to blame, and that blame started all the troubles that we have now. And blame will not be the end.

The water grew freezing under my hands, and I cupped them to drink the water. I noticed my face was still wet. I rubbed my shirt onto my face, and shrunk away from it. _Shit. _I'd gotten puke on my shirt, too.

_Oh fuck,_ does this day get any worse? I didn't want to go to any party tonight. I didn't want to. I wanted to go home and...and...I don't even fucking know. My brain wasn't working right at the time.

I took my shirt off, I wasn't wearing that anymore; it stunk. I washed my face again, was smart for half a second, and searched for the towel in the bathroom. I massaged the bridge of my nose for half a second, my head in utter pain.

I opened the door of the bathroom, and went back down the hall, and put my hand on the door knob. Then I snatched it away. What if...what if they were still kissing? Or what if they were going further? Ugh. I didn't even want to think about that. I slumped down against the door. I couldn't go in. Not after thinking about that. I didn't want to move. I wanted to stop them, I wanted to take Mercutio for my own, but I couldn't. I should've ran away, gotten the hell out of there, but I couldn't either. I just sat there, my head in my hands.

The door behind me opened, and I fell backwards. I had forgotten that door opened in... "Oh, Benvolio...I was just abut to go get you. I was wondering how you could spend so long in a bathroom...were you turned on by—Ben, why the fuck don't you have a shirt on?" Mercutio said, as he offered a hand to help me up.

"What?" I said, and glanced around the room before looking down and noticing that I wasn't wearing a shirt. Romeo was cradling the last bottle in his hands, and it looked empty. It looked like nothing had happened. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, I think I puked on it." I said, smiling.

"You think?" Mercutio said questioningly. Then he laughed, and something that I couldn't see, so I just figured it was drunk joy. "Do me a favor, Ben, don't think."

"Life sucks." Romeo said from inside the room, taking his shirt off and slipping the fabric of the costume on.

"Ya." Mercutio said half-heartedly. "Ben, get changed." Mercutio demanded, and got his own costume, and slipped it on. I almost couldn't help but stare at his bare-chest. He was beautiful. But then I thought the better of it and flicked my attention onto getting my own costume on.

Once the three of us were suited up, we set out. It was a dark night, and it had cleared up from previously during the day as if by magic. The sky was clear, the stars are moon perfectly seen. I stared up at it. The stars foretold of the future, but were the most beautiful beings ever. Beauty, with power. Like, Helen, whose face launched a thousand ships. Or Diana, the goddess of such extreme beauty that she would shoot any offender. Or Mercutio, whose beauty and swordsmanship were-

I bumped into someone on the street. He looked up at me, and I recognized him. It was Balthasar. "Sorry," he said, and kept walking.

"Wait, wait." Mercutio called after him. "Balthasar, you're coming with us." He said, and took off his mask.

"Mercutio?" He said, seeing his prince's kinsman's face. "Anyway, where are you going?"

"Capulet party. You're coming with us." Balthasar looked completely confused. "That's an order." Mercutio threw his mask at Balthasar, and made his own hood hide his face. "Let's go."

Romeo looked around, confused at how Balthasar got tugged into this. "What, shall we on without apology?" He asked.

"Let them measure us by what they will. We'll measure them a measure, and begone!" I said, motioning dancing. We'd only stay there a short time, right?

Romeo gave me a look. "Give me the torch, I am not for this ambling, being but heavy, I will bear the light." He said, looking down and depressed again.

"Nay, we must have you dance!" Mercutio exclaimed, and spun Romeo around like they were waltzing.

"Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead!" he said, playing with his words. "So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move!"

"You are a lover." He said, shaking Romeo's shoulders. "Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound!" And he ran off only to jog back again.

"Under love's heavy burden do I sink." He said, spitting out his words. Was Romeo actually _sober _again. I hadn't thought that was possible...

"And in it should you burden love, too great an oppression for such a tender thing." Mercutio pointed out.

"Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like a thorn!" Romeo complained.

"If love be rough with you, be rough with love, prick love for pricking, and you beat love down!" Mercutio said, mining sexuality.

Romeo shook his head. "And we mean well going in this mask. But 'tis no wit to go!" He said, as I wondered to myself, had Romeo any wit to think that?

"Why, may one ask?" Mercutio asked, putting his own face in Romeo's.

"...I had a dream last night." Romeo confessed, using a sorry tone for no reason.

"I so did I." Mercutio said, stepping back and throwing his arms out.

"What was yours?" Romeo asked, forgetting what he was thinking about in the first place.

"That dreamers. Often. Lie." Mercutio said simply, and awfully drunken.

"In bed asleep to they dream things true." Romeo pointed out, drifting back into the world of stupidity.

Mercutio looked to me, Balthasar, and then back to Romeo. He gave a little lopsided smirk. A beautiful lopsided smirk. "I see Queen Mab hath been with you."

"Queen Mab?" Romeo said quizzically, remembering our toast from earlier. "What's she?"

Merc let out an oversized laugh. "She is the fairy's midwife." He said. Then gave a look to us meaning 'conversation over.' Then he laughed. "She comes in shape to bigger than an agate stone on the forefinger of an alderman." He said, and put his middle finger up. "Drawn by a little team of atomies, athwart men's noses as the lie asleep, her whip!" He called out screaming it into the night sky. "Of cricket bone...Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat, not half so big as the round little worm pricked from the lazy finger of a maid!" He said, and then hoisted himself up onto the wall that lined the pathway to the Capulet household. He stopped walking on the post, pausing and holding us arms up, like some Capulet guard has just spotted us. "And in that state, she gallops..." And then he ran down the wall, leaving us behind. "night by night, through lovers brains," He jumped down, and put his hands on Romeo's head, "and then they dream of love! O'er lawyers fingers who straight dream on fees. O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream" he said, kissing Romeo on the cheek. "Which oft the angry Mad blisters plague..." Mercutio went on, but that was where my notice of his drunk stupidity was toned out by Balthasar who had come up to me.

"Reckon he's gotten broken up with?" Balthasar asked in a low tone.

"Who, Romeo?" I asked. "He's always-"

"No, you blithering idiot. Mercutio." Balthasar said, whispering even more. "He's acting more...over-the-top than he normally does. I thought of all-"

"No, no, this is just normal Mercut-" I said, and he just continued our conversations of royal cut offs.

"No. It's not. _As I was saying _You of all people would notice first." He said, smiling a bit.

I grabbed him by his collar hoping Mercutio was too...involved to notice. "And what leads you to that idea."

"Well, it's obvious, lover-boy." Balthasar said. "Isn't it?"

I looked at him. I originally wanted it to be a venomous look of anger, but hey, that's not how I flow. I released his collar, smiled at him with sparkling eyes. "And how in our whole world do you come to that conclusion?"

"As I said, it's obvious." He said, and tossed his head back into his hands. "It looks like something bad happened to him today. He's trying to get over it. I reckoned it's a lost lover...Maybe you oughta comfort him, you know what I'm saying?" He said, smirking with a little I-know-a-secret smile.

"You don't speak a _word _of that to anyone or-" I said, but was cut off by a hand on my shoulder.

"Sometimes she ride's o'er a soldier's neck," He said, and then put his Grim Reaper scythe around my neck, "Then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of breaches, ambasadoes, Spanish blades, by health five fathoms deep. But then, anon!" And then Mercutio straightened his back, as if he heard something in the distance, "Drums in his ears, at which he starts...and waits...and being thus frightened, he swears a prayer or two..." He said. And then he danced away from Balthasar, and slung his arms over Romeo and my shoulders, and then, "This is that very Mab that plats the manes of horses in the night, and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: this is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, that presses them and learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage: This is she-"

"_Peace._" Romeo said, in a tone so sharp, even Mercutio jumped a second. "Peace, Mercutio." Then he lowered his tone. "Thou talk'st of nothing."

Mercutio just looked at Romeo a bit blankly, and then a wide smile spread across his face. "True." He said. "I talk'st of dreams." I heard Romeo groan as he rolled his eyes back, and then Mercutio said louder to make his point, "which are the children of an idle brain, begot by nothing but idle fantasy!" he exclaimed.

"This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; supper is done, and we shall come too late." I said, breaking into their conversation. Mercutio looked up at the sky, and then dragged us into the Capulet hall. I could barely hear Romeo uttering a couple of words and then crossing himself. "Strike, drums." I said, and we were off.

The hall was filled with tons of costumed people, some all decked out as we were, some just with a simple mask. I could recognize some people. Merc's brother, some women of noble parentage, all people that sided with the Capulets. I hoped no one would recognize _us_.

"Welcome, gentlemen!" Lord Capulet said himself as he greeted us by the doorway. "ladies that have their toes un-plauged by corns walk a bout with you!" He said, and motioned behind us as a couple of women entered the hall. "A ha, my mistresses, which of you will now deny to dance?" He asked, and whisked the women over towards us. They laughed and giggled, and eventually we drifted apart. Of course, Mercutio being the charming man he is, went with them, for they had already latched onto his side.

Romeo instantly caught sight of someone whom I expected to be Rosaline, and dashed away from us, not to be seen until tomorrow afternoon.

I sat down. I had thought there would be something interesting to do here, hadn't I? I suppose I needed to, I had convinced Romeo to go.

But it was just so boring! I've never been much of an active partier, especially if the royal party-animal Merc wasn't there.

I didn't dare dance, I could be recognized, or rather, these women were all interested in men other than myself. Mercutio was more...outgoing than he normally was...if that was possible. He normally tried not to make too many moves on a girl if Romeo was in the room. He would jokingly, trying to piss him off. And now he didn't even care if Romeo went off for this Rosaline? Well, not like he did normally...but less so, less so. Had Merc been getting over Romeo? Could it be my time to shine? No, no, hopeful thinking like that is stupid. It makes you seem like you are in a competition. Competition is bad. It leads to violence. And violence leads to death.

A growl from behind me awoke me from my thoughts. It was the voice of a cat, and it looked as if he hadn't recognized me. "This, by his voice, should be a Montague." He said, and then touched my arm. "Fetch me a rapier, boy." Had he mistaken me for a servant of his? "Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, to strike him dead, I hold it not a sin." Oh god. This, judging horrid, animal... Ideas flashed through my mind, of Romeo, of Mercutio of Mercutio and Romeo, of hatred of... I stood up, ready to kill him.

Lord Capulet had beaten me to it, though.

"Why, how now, kinsmen, wherefore storm you so?" He said, as if trying to find a reason why Tybalt would be angry at a horrid feast like this.

"Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe." He said. I got terribly terrified for a second, for once, for my own life. Had Tybalt been speaking about me? But I hadn't said anything for him to recognize my voice for. I was dead, if he had figured me out, well I had no reason to be here. Prince Escalus would have me dead!

"Ah, young Romeo, is it?" He said, and I whipped my head around. They had been talking about Romeo, who was now dancing off to the side of the room with another girl. Rosaline? Probably... Romeo was in danger. Tybalt had recognized him, dancing with a girl that had been invited to a Capulet party, meaning she was related to the Capulets...Oh, this was bad...

"'Tis he, that villain Romeo." He spat.

"Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone. Verona brags of him to be a virtuous, well governed youth. I would not for all the wealth of this town do his disparagement." Nice going, Romeo! You haven't even _looked _at him tonight, and you got him on your side, even while you were crashing a Capulet party as a Montague. It's amazing! Tell me your secrets, Romeo, we could seriously end this fued if we put our heads together. "Now, show a fair presence and put off these frowns, an ill-beseeming semblance for a feast." Lord Capulet said to Tybalt.

"It fits when such a villain is a guest." Tybalt pointed out, obviously not going to let this go. If only I'd known how much he wouldn't. And then he said, such horrid venom in his voice, I'd put my hand to my belt, wishing there was a sword there, "I'll not endure him."

"He shall be endured! What, goodman boy, I say he shall! Go to! Go to!" He said. Yes. We had Capulet turn on Tybalt, and now he was telling Tybalt to leave the feast. "Am I the master here or you? Go to!" Then he repeated Tybalts words in mocking breaths. "You'll not endure him...God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You'll be the man!" He said, shoving Tybalt's shoulders and motioning him to leave.

"Why uncle 'tis a shame!" Tybalt whined.

"Go to, go to!" He said, hurrying Tybalt out the door, but Tybalt stood his ground. Then a crowd of people passed, and being the Lord of the party, Capulet had to greet them. "isn't it so, indeed? Marry 'tis time. Well said, my hearts!" He said, and then turned his attention back to the cat. "You are a princox; go!" He said, trying to get Tybalt from the room. "Be quiet or-" and then, to the servants. "More light, more light!" then back to Tybalt. "Or for shame, I'll make you quiet!" He said, and shoved the cat with hidden strength out of the room.

Tybalt had a few words to say before he budged and left the hall. "I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall!" he said, and left. Then Capulet looked at me, flashed a fake smile, then glared at Romeo.

I got up. I didn't want to stay there any longer, I'd already had my share of fun, and I feared that it was more than enough. I left from the opposite side Tybalt had.

I slumped back against a stone wall.

Capulets sticking up for Montagues. Montagues liking women in a Capulet party. It all didn't make sense. Like one of my dreams of peace. Like a dream... "children of an idle mind." I laughed at myself. I suppose my mind _was_ idle. More than idle, maybe.

"What are you laughing at?" A voice above me sounded. It seemed to happen all too often.

"Not you." I said, swallowing. It was Tybalt.

"I don't recognize you. From what household do you come?" He asked. Stay calm, Ben, stay calm.

"The Martinos. My name is..." Think, Benvolio, think! "Augustus."

"Augustus? I haven't seen you around Verona before." He said. I didn't dare think if he had suspected me already...

"I-I come from..." I started, then he glared down at me. "...away." I said. Oh, heavens, this was not good. Nay, this was not good at all.

"Away? Benvolio, please, don't try to hide it, I've seen you around the Montague household enough." He said, completely calmly.

"Ha? So you've figured me out? I guess I'll be going then..." I said. I needed to get out of there. I don't know, it must've been the sixth time I said that tonight, but I needed to get out of there. Tybalt had figured me out. I got up, and started sprinting away.

"No, you made a fool of me this morn." He said, and grabbed my sleeve. "I deserve to speak to you."

I looked down at him. This was Tybalt. The one person in the world that made me turn to violence. "Tell me, oh great Prince of Cats, what do I owe this honor?"

"Oh please, Benvolio. You know that wit is dry by now, there's not use but stupidity in using it." He said. I sniggered. Mercutio was always on about Tybalt's unfortunate name. I guess if Tybalt wasn't so defensive about it, we would stop, but it was great to get a reaction out of this guy. "I'd like you to deliver a message to Mercutio."

I looked at him oddly for a second. "And why don't you just tell him yourself."

Tybalt snarled. "You think I'm going to go back in there after my uncle...after he brought shame to our entire family. Never." He scowled at me. "I need you to tell him this, though."

I frowned, but said nothing. He looked at me for acceptance, and when getting none, continued.

"I want you to tell that fool never to lay hands on my again, our little "contract"-as he called it—is far over-oh, yes, and this may be of importance to you, also- I am going to kill his friend, Romeo. I suspect I've seen you with him before. You must have some stupid Montague relation." He said, and with a click of his heels on the stone floor below us, was away.


	4. If Looking Liking Move Me

**If Looking Liking Move Me**

*_* If you notice any grammatical errors, ya, even though I'm a proofreader for scans and stuff, I am the last person you would think as a Grammar Nazi. And, hey, for your information, I spelled Grammar with an 'e' (as in grammer) and spellcheck had to correct it for me. Oh, PS, I feel like no one is reading this except one person (Dude, I love you.) and I'm totally okay with that if that's just how much it sucks, but if you aren't that one person (Dude—I repeat—I love you) can you review or rate, or whatever they be calling it these days? Wow...long A/N. Let's get on with it! *_*

I guess I needed to just understand that Tybalt was one odd Capulet, and leave it at that, but hey, 'curiosity killed the cat' and I don't think I'd mind if Tybalt was dead.

So I tried to understand the 'message' Tybalt gave to me to give Mercutio.

He had said, "their contract was over", "he was going to kill Romeo", and finally, "never to lay hands on him again." Now, as stories normally go, I'm going to tell you the one that I am most outraged about last.

As an normal person would wonder, what was this contract that he spoke of, and why had he decided it was over with such hatred, but not to Mercutio's face?

Now, he said he was going to kill Romeo. There were a billion reasons why he would want to. The most sensible one that did not bring in any other my own romantic nightmares was that Tybalt was just angry at Romeo for being at the party. But if that was the case, then why wasn't he angry at Benvolio too? Had it been because he was dancing with Rosaline? Was Tybalt in love with Rosaline?

And then the most troubling of the few things Tybalt had told Benvolio. He told him to tell Mercutio never to 'lay hands on him again'. And even though I promised I would talk about that, I don't think I will because it hurts. How confused I am, how little I know, it hurts. It hurts! Why...why don't I understand anything? Is it because I'm too peaceful? Does everyone not even bother to tell me because I won't get angry or anything? Oh, great, now I feel like I've cheated you by not giving you your story right. You know what, hell, this is my story, and you're going to read it my way.

Oh, shit, c'mon, you know I didn't mean that. Keep reading? Please? It seems I've gotten a little more violent in death than I have in life, you know?

So, I went out to find Mercutio. It was the best thing I could think of, I actually wish it was the only thing I could of. But it wasn't. I thought of too many things, all the thing I'm ruffled up in life that will never fall the same way. Or how I don't. How I stay too painful. And then I thought about Romeo. And Rosaline. And Tybalt. And Mercutio. And me. And life itself. I'm write it all down for you, but iit was senseless. Truth, I'm embarrassed of thinking it, more embarrassed of thinking it than doing unspeakable things with Mercutio.

He managed to find me first. I don't know how he did, but it was nice, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time, but rather, a string of words flowed from my mouth that made little sense put together. "Tybalt...contract...and sex...Romeo...and I think I fucking love you!" And then I realized how much life sucked and I wanted to run away, and then I realized that tears were coming down my face, and I _really _didn't know why and I wanted to stop crying, because there was no real reason why I was but I couldn't and then I thought of how stupid I must look right now and how stupid I actually was and how much my grammar is terrible when I'm not paying attention to it. And then I cried even harder.

Then, as it seems like it goes, I noticed every emotion that went on Mercutio's face, and it made me feel worse. He first looked entirely confused, but then it changed to a look of shock, followed shortly by horror. Then I think he smiled, but it was more lopsided, like when you know that picture you drew is terrible but your parents say it's a work of art.

I took a couple of deep breaths but then it didn't work, so I sat down on the wall, and hoped that when I spoke I would stop crying, and I really wanted to stop crying, because I couldn't figure out why I was, and it scared me.

I took short gasps between all my words because I was still crying. "I'm sorry. Jesu Maria, am I sorry." Gasp. "It's just that Tybalt was all..." Gasp. "that he wouldn't let you lay a hand on him again." gasp. "and I don't get that because you like Romeo." Mercutio opened his mouth, but closed it as I fought for the need to speak. "And then he said he was going to kill Romeo," gasp. "and I can't tell why. And then he said something about a contract." Gasp. "And I want to go kill him but I know" gasp. "I can't. You like Romeo, and I like you," gasp. "and I'm trying to woo Romeo for you, and I feel like we're in Illriya or something, and I hate my life even though it's really good, and I think I'm going to go home now." And then I stood up, and walked away. Just walked away. I didn't get very far though.

"Benvolio." He said, and with his voice stopped me in my steps. "I'd thought you were smart enough to tell this, but maybe I thought wrong. I don't fall in love." He said.

I didn't think. I just spoke. For once, there wre no consequences, no tomorrow, just a stone cold today and a desirable yesterday. "You fell in love with Romeo!" I said, my tears drying but my voice still higher, yet scratchy. "Just answer my question an let me go die! What is this business with Tybalt."

"Shit!" Mercutio said, and then he said nothing.

"What?" I said, almost screaming.

"If I had know that you liked me then this wouldn't have happened. Okay. Just telling you that. This sure isn't my fault." He said, as a precautionary warning. "Uncle wants me to get married. He says that since my dad is dead, along with his wife and daughter, me and my brother are the next in line for the throne. Valentine's already married, so Uncle says before he chooses, he wants me to get married, to make it fair. But I didn't want to get married, and my life crumbled, and if I get married their's no way in hell that Romeo would ever fall in 'love' with me." He paused. "Get it?" I nodded, and wondered how I'd been entirely oblivious to this going on. "So I did anything, Romeo couldn't know about this until I convinced Uncle I didn't want to get married. Somehow Tybalt found out about it. I dunno how. And I was just so goddamn fed up with everything, and with the world, and with him, and I was so alone...that somehow it went down that we...well...yeah." He said, and downcast-ed his eyes for a second, something that I rarely saw Mercutio do.

"Wait, so..." I asked, but hadn't really thought of anything to say.

"Exactly. And then he said he would kill me and was so angry, and then he said that he would tell everyone I didn't just like Romeo, but other men, and then I made an agreement saying I wouldn't fight him if he didn't tell anyone. But I guess our contract is over." He said, and then looked at me.

I had no idea what to say. That was too much in every way. It was just all too much. "Then what?" I asked suddenly. "What do you want me to do?" I realized my voice was normal again, but my head wasn't. "I told you everything I know, and you told me much and...what do we do now?"

Mercutio's whole body language changed. It was like that Mercutio I had seen only seconds ago disappeared and was replaced with the Mercutio I knew and loved. I couldn't help but wonder which one was the real one...it couldn't be the mushy and sensitive one, right? "I would take you home right now," He said, smiling, "But I am worried about our helpless romantic—haha, I think that term describes all of us, and is no longer in affect, so...I'm worried about our madman for the moment." It took me a second to register that it was Romeo he spoke of, and I smiled a bit through me dried tears. "Here, let's go find him."

He joked around, running around the wall like Romeo would be found around any corner. I felt like Mercutio was trying to cheer me up not very obviously, but it was obvious, but it did work. "Romeo! My cousin, Romeo!" I yelled.

"He is wise. Mercutio called. He hath stol'n him home to bed." He said, and gave a silent motion 'and we should, too.'

"He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall. Call good Mercutio." I said, you were the one that was worried about him, you find him.

"Nay," he said, "I'll conjure too." I tried to roll my eyes as obviously as I could, but I don't think he caught it. "Romeo! Humours! Passion! Madman! Lover!" He looked at me, laughed, and then continued. "Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; cry but 'Ah me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, one nick-name for her purblind son and heir, young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, when King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!" He spoke to me next time. "he heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;" Then he called back, so Romeo, wherever he was, could hear. "The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, by her high forehead and her scarlet lip, by her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh and the demesnes that there adjacent lie, that in thy likeness thou appear to us!" He said. He waited a few seconds.

"And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him." I reminded Mercutio.

"This cannot anger him. In but his mistress' name I conjure only but to raise him up." He said, joking but saying it loudly enough for (if Romeo was in a 10 foot perimeter of us) Romeo could hear.

"Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, to be consorted with the humorous night: blind is his love and best befits the dark." I said, motioning to the trees and the dark shadows they cast.

"If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now, will he sit under a medlar tree, and wish his mistress were that kind of fruit as maids call medlars, when they laugh alone." He laughed. "Romeo, that she were, O, that she were an open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!" He waited a few second, then gave up. And then he slung his arm around my shoulder. "Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; this field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: come, shall we go?" He said smiling, and I giggled a bit.

We walked, not hand in hand—that would be odd—but we walked together, not really saying anything, and the important thing was we didn't need to say anything because I was perfectly content with just my thoughts. This was actually happening. I was meeting the Mercutio I'd sworn I'd never meet. The loving one, the sexual one. For a moment, I'd forgotten the number of people Mercutio's been with, and it was like we were the only people in the world. Like the universe, it all shrunk down to our galaxy. Then our galaxy crossed out all other stars, and it was just our solar system. And then all the other planets disappeared, and it was just earth. Then all other countries went away, and it was just Italy. All other cities and towns, 'till only Verona existed. And then Verona, along with all it's other inhabitants disappeared, Romeo, Rosaline, Balthasar, Montague, Capulet, Escalus, Tybalt, everything I knew was in the perimeter of Mercutio's bedroom.

Then I became skeptical. Was Mercutio serious (a dumb question, I know)? Was this going too fast (why, yes it was, but that was how Mercutio worked)? Why was Mercutio doing this with me when Romeo was... (I fear that sentence will lead to my own death, and I dare not continue it)? Should I be here (No, I probably shouldn't...)? Why was I here (I cannot answer that so simply.)? Did I really love Mercutio (My mind tells me so, and my heart beats in my bosom, but is that love)? Was I going to hell for this? What would Friar Lawrence tell me? Should I go to confession tomorrow? Was I ashamed of doing this?

And then it was, why was Mercutio slipping his hand up my shirt? Should I get on top of him? Should I kiss him harder, or is a soft kiss better? Should I fight with his tongue? How does one go about doing this with another man? Is there a different rhythm? Are there special procedures?

I think Mercutio realized the fear—or rather confusion in my eyes, and he asked me. "Do you not want me to do this?"

And I answered suddenly, with little thought. "No! I mean, yes. I mean, no. I do want to do this. I just..." I paused for a second, feeling very subconscious. I wasn't a virgin, I'd felt woman before—we all had. But this was foreign territory to me... "I don't know how..."

Mercutio laughed. It was full throated and natural, and—trying the least to sound like a lovesick idiot—sounded like a thousand church bells. "I'll teach you." He said. His hands started to work around my shirt, and somehow even though so involved with my chest, he managed to take it off. He pushed me down onto the bed, and went back to kissing my neck. It felt so good, not at all like a woman's tongue, but just like Mercutio's, ready to fight, and read to win. He brushed his hand across my nipples and I winced a little—it tickled. He moved his trail of kisses and started them down my chest, and somehow unlike ever before, it felt somewhat erotic. I'd never been conscious of my nipples, there were very little reason why men had them. But, this Meructio the irresistibly sexy one that knew that's what everyone thought, but only the chosen few knew, he made my entire body feel so different.

Then his kisses left my nipples, and went further down, and it took me some time to notice what he was doing. I told him not to, and then he told me it was okay. When I told him I'd much rather I do it do him, he smiled and said, "No, I've been told I'm really good at this." And then I thought who told him that, and how many other guys he's been with, and since I was the one that told him I loved him I should be the one doing that.

And then I couldn't think anymore because it felt so good—nothing like how a woman would do it, and even if it were someone else doing it it would be different because this was Mercutio. And then I got really happy because I had been hard in the first place, and when Mercutio smiled because of that, I think I got so red it made him smile even more.

"I-" I said gasping, because of the way Mercutio moved his tongue, "I think I'm going to..." I said, and couldn't finish because I released, and it felt so good, and I was in such utter joy, and Mercutio was amazing, and I felt like I was so quick, and I couldn't tell if that was bad or good, and I really didn't have anything good enough to say.

"You're quick." He said, smiling and licking his lips. That was just so...Mercutio...I can't believe you.

"Sorry I'm not as experienced as you." I said, and looked at him.

That didn't come out the right way, and I could tell he took it the wrong way from a look of slight confusion on his face, which then transferred to a smile. "Since you're so inexperienced, let me tell you off that bat; don't worry, you do that way too much. I'll be gentle."

And the surprising thing was that he actually was gentle. It was so unlike him, but he was, and that scared me even more.

And then I was thrown back into a state of not thinking when I saw his face, and didn't have a proper mind to be scared, to worry, to feel pain, or to run away. I just felt love. It was odd, like no other emotions mattered—nothing you could possibly think of or act on mattered. "Can I?" He said, and it wasn't in my proper mind to think how unlike him in was to ask, but he did.

And he was warm, and I was tight, and we had the right rhythm and everything, and for a night, one night that made it seem like no other night existed, everything was perfect.

*_* I decided to make it T instead of M, if you were hoping for M, sorry. But, if you were happy with this, yay! It goes downhill from here. Sorry about having it after such a long time, life ran up with me. *_*


	5. Happy Nights To Happy Days

**Happy Nights To Happy Days**

*_* I messed up in the last chapter and it's killing me! But if I change it, it will change the whole stories. But, so...You may've noticed in Romeo and Juliet, Benvolio says a line that I didn't include. Once Romeo learns of Juliet's family, Benvolio tells him "Away, begone, the sport is at his best." But I didn't have Ben there! Argh! I'm trying to make this work with the Shakespeare, so just ignore that slip-up, kay? Those of you that reviewed really moved me, and Histoire de le Coeur, that review was inspiring in both ways of me wanting to write this, and a want to re-word all my reviews to make them that beautiful.*_*

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't quite expecting the sight I saw. Well, in theory I should've been, but I wasn't. It was just so...sweet.

My head rested on Mercutio's right arm, and he looked down at me, his hair falling messily across his face. "I didn't dare move before. You're a very light sleeper, Ben." He said, a slight raise on te colours of his face, but his eyes definitely smiling. "You almost woke up a couple of times. Mind if wash up?" He asked, and I felt my face flush, though I couldn't tell why. He took that as an affirmative, and rose from the bed, his perfectly toned chest (and more) for me to see, and he picked up a mess of clothing on the floor, and headed down the hallway.

I rested my head down on the pillow, and pulled the blanket closer to me. I tried to believe what had happened had actually happened. I didn't know what to think. If I remember correctly, I don't think I did think. It was something Mercutio had told me to do so many times, and I finally did. I didn't think of the consequences. I didn't think at all. And it had been the time of my life. For once, I had a blank mind. It was one of the few times that had happened to me, all of those times within the pages of this story. I loved it.

Mercutio came back into his room. His hair was damp, apparently Mercutio's hair dried seconds after he got out of water—I had never seen it wet. He wore a tighter pair of black pants, and had a white shirt slung over his arm. "Ben, for the love of God, go wash up." He said, and I was thrown from my admiration of his wonder.

I rose from the bed reluctantly, I didn't want the moment of nothingness to end. I ever-so-smoothly stumbled on the way to the door, Mercutio chuckled, and I bolted from the room.

When I washed myself, I did it robotically, my mind straying. I knew there were so many things to think about, so much to ponder on, and so much time to do it in, but I couldn't think of a single subject I could spend time on. There was too much and too little at the same time, canceling each other out like matter and antimatter. I tried to follow Mercutio's rule of not thinking, and thinking about that meant I was still thinking, which didn't follow the rule.

I can't even wonder now how my mind strayed to this topic, yet somehow, I began to feel very bad for famous old scientists. Socrates, _, _. They're ideas were all so famous, made so much sense, yet at the time they must've been stupid. It made even a person like me wonder, what situation had they been put in to think of their theories, and how had they gotten in that situation? In ways, the people was billions of times more interesting than their ideas.

I took the towel and rubbed my hair with it until the droplets of water no longer fell from ech strand. Then I wrapped the town around my body, hoping for clothes to magically appear in front of me, with no luck.

All these famous thinkers promoted the ideas of peace, as I have. Yet, one night, what I am going to call the best night of my life, was utter unpeace—chaos. Yet in this chaos there was a kind of peace I've never experienced before. It was peace is chaos. Was that the idea Mercutio played on? This feud between family's, would it end if there was more fighting? I felt like one of those famous thinkers. Peace within chaos, was that how the feud could end? If more fights started, the sooner the war would be over. It made no sense, but was based on my thinking.

Then I thought—oh, the irony!-about how I was doing just the opposite of what Mercutio did and directed me to do as well; I was thinking.

I looked at my face, and decided to skip shaving today, to much work.

But that way of thinking defined me. It _was_ me. I was Benvolio. In Italian, it meant 'good will' or 'good luck'. I thought of what was best for a person, and gave them council on it. That, a) required thinking, and b) required me to make the best choices always so, c) I could give people the best council from experience. It was in my name. Benvolio defines me as much as my last name of Montague does. It is me, and I cannot turn from my name for whatever lover I have—even if he is Mercutio. Your parents direct you not to change for who you love, therefore I shall never change me name. I am Benvolio. I wish you good luck! I give good council, and now I shall take to it. I shall not change my name for some person, no matter if he is the prince's nephew. Whatever the parentage of the person, they cannot make me change my name. The change of a name changes a person, and Mercutio choose to lay with me in the body I am in now, not one with a changed name.

There was a knock at the door. It opened a crack and Mercutio's hand poked through. "Here, Ben." I looked at what the hand held and took it in my own. "You can return them later." It was black pants and a baggy green shirt. I wondered if it would even fit him.

"Thanks." I said through the door and he closed it. The clothes smelled like him, not bad, but just like him, so I'd known they hadn't been washed. That was okay with me, I liked his smell. Oh, I still can't say this right. It's not like I was attracted to his smell or had a scent fetish or something, it just smelled like him, and I loved every aspect of him—expect for his love of Romeo—even his smell. I slipped on the pair of underwear that he had passed me, praying that that was clean. I didn't want to check. Then I dressed and left the bathroom.

He had a pair of spectacles on, but I knew they were only for reading.

There was a knock on the door of his room, and he opened it. "Thank you, sirrah." He said, and took one plate of food.

"I heard Sir Benvolio, nephew of Lord Montague, has spent the night. The chef prepared this for him." The servant outside said, and passed me a plate with a fork too. I smiled, and Mercutio whisked the servant away.

He ate somewhat quickly, and the meal was in entire silence. This was a little bit my fault, I hadn't eaten last night expect the appetizers at the Capulet feast. (I learned it wasn't really a feast, and that annoyed me a little, I wanted food.) Therefore I gobbled down the food what I thought was a little too fast.

I had just finished the plate, when Mercutio set his down on the nearby table, and I stacked my own on top of that, not quite sure what to do with it. He leaned back in his chair, and I sat a little awkwardly on the floor. He looked into my eyes, and I diverted mine. It was like that for about a minute, and then I heard him take a breath to speak.

Just then the door opened and the servant addressed me. "Sir Benvolio, nephew of Lord Montague, and servant of your house has come to meet you." And he motioned me to follow him. I looked at Mercutio, who crossed his arms, and his eyes were downcast now.

"Ah..." I started to say, then closed my mouth with a loss of words, and followed the servant. Balthasar met me at the front door of the branch of Escalus' castle.

"I've searched for you, sir." And then I realized Mercutio and I had left Balthasar there alone with a lovesick Romeo. I stifled a laugh.

"Why, did Romeo not walk back with you?" I asked him.

"Nay, sir, he was no where to be found. Someone had seen you return with Lord Mercutio, thank God, and I was able to find you." Balthasar said, standing straight and delivering his message officially.

"Loosen up, Balthasar." I said, punching his arm. "What calls you here to-day?"

"It is-well, Sir Romeo has received a letter from the house of the Capulets." I raised my eyebrow and he continued. "It is a request of battle from Sir Tybalt, nephew of Lord Capulet of the house of Capulets." Oh god. This was bad. Tybalt had not been fooling, he spoke the truth when he said he meant to kill Romeo. Now he was only carry out his words.

"Thank you for delivering his message, Balthasar." I told him, and nodded at him.

He seemed to understand. "Sir Benvolio, please, beware. That fiery Capulet seems to be out for kill, and I doubt he would stop his trail of blood if something got in his way. I fear for all of you as well as myself." He said.

I looked down and licked my lips. Balthasar spoke truth. I knew Tybalt, and he was surely boiling with anger to formally request a battle with Romeo. It was danger. I looked back up and saw Balthasar was still there. "Oh, um, you're dismissed." I told him, and it seemed I had nothing more to inquire about, nor did he have anything else to tell me, because he walked away.

I started back into the house, but as I opened the door Mercutio was already making his way down the hallways. "Who was that?" He asked.

"Balthasar." I answered. "What's wrong?" I said, looking in his eyes.

He averted my stare. "Not one thing." He said, and looked off.

"Who're you looking for?" I asked. I should've taken it that he was looking for Romeo, but he hadn't asked about it yet, so there was a chance he wasn't.

He gave me a sharp look I didn't understand. At all. Why was he being so mean to me? "That little..." he said, and then mumbled something else.

"What was that?" I asked, as nicely as I could. If I acted nicely towards him, he normall turned around and told me what was bothering him.

"That _harlot._" He spat, and then stood up and strode away from me. It didn't look like he was trying to run away from me, he just was annoyed. He didn't censor himself unless he was really annoyed.

"Who?" I knew this wasn't helping his temper, but I could help. If he wanted help. Which, now that I look back on it...he didn't.

"That Rosaline queen." He said. Oh. Rosaline. That's was it was about. It _would_ be about her.

"So that's the girl." I asked him, making sure not to outwardly state the topic.

He looked at me. "Huh." He smiled for a second, then remembered he was annoyed. "Yeah. That's the girl."

"That's not too good on Romeo's part." I said, speaking exactly my mind.

"No. It's not. I cannot believe I'm to be married to a Capulet." He said. "Escalus doesn't understand me at all." He sighed. "Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?"

"Not to his fathers—I spoke with his man."

"Oh that same pale-hearted wench, that Rosaline. Torments him so, he shall soon run mad." He stated. It was a troubling predicament, all three of them had been thrown into.

The remembered something that I should tell Mercutio. "Tybalt hath sent a letter to his house."

Mercutio looked at me in utter disbelief and then, if he had been sitting down, I imagine him standing, for he walked in another direction so suddenly. "A challenge on my life."

I grabbed his arm, and faced him to where—though I didn't know—we were going. "Romeo will answer it."

He looked out, and I thought I saw a gleam of sadness in his eyes, though Mercutio isn't one to be sad. "Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with awhite wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?"

"Why? What is Tybalt?" I growled this, and didn't quite care that I did. I hated that man, even more now.

"More than the Prince of Cats." He said, not noticing my tone. "...I can tell you. Oh, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk  
>button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause: ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! The hai!"<p>

I tried to figure out if he was reffering to sex, or fighting, but I suppose they had their similarities. I stumbled over my words. "The what?"

He looked at me, and sighed at my stupidity. "'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good whore!'" He looked at me, then seeing a black reaction, laughed. "Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdonami's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot at ease on the old bench? Oh, their bones, their bones!"

I shook my head, and then saw a person that I didn't want to see. Well, one of the many, though I dislike thinking in that manner. "Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo."

"Signior Romeo, bon jour!" He said, bowing. "There's a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night." He said, feigning annoyance.

"Good morrow to you both." He said, nodding to the two of us. "What counterfeit did I give you?"

"The ship, sir, the ship! Can you not conceive?"

"Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy." Romeo said in his upright official way.

"That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams." Mercutio said. I blushed. Oh, god.

"Meaning to courtesy." Romeo said, beating Mercutio's wit, something I could never do.

"Thou hast most kindly hit it." I couldn't take it. Nothing had changed, nothing had changed...

"A most courteous exposition." It's not different!

"Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy." Mercutio didn't care... at all.

"Pink for flower?" Romeo said, continuing to play the innocent act.

"Right."

"Well then, my pump is well flowered." Romeo said, winning their little sexual allusion match.

"Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faint." Mercutio said, holding his hands up in surrender. _Good_ Benvolio. I hate it.

I took a deep breath, and took my own advice. "Switch and spurs, switch and spurs, or I shall call a match."

Mercutio looked at Romeo, and punched his arm. "Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole." He was so familiar. Too familiar. No! Don't touch him, Romeo! He's mine.

"Stop there." I said, as Mercutio ruffled Romeo's hair. "Stop there!" I said sharply.

Then Mercutio saw someone walking down the street. "A sail!" He cried. "A sail!"

It was an extremely fat woman, a person I recognized as a servant of the Capulets. Whatever Mercutio was involving us in, I wasn't in the mood...

"Peter!" The woman called, and at first I thought she was mistaking us for someone else.

That was until I saw a small man that was surely hidden behind the large woman peek from behind her to say, "Anon!"

"Peter, my fan." The woman said.

Mercutio laughed. "Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face."

The woman looked at Romeo, and gave a slight smile. "God ye morrow, gentlemen."

Mercutio returned a bow. "God ye den, fair gentlewomen."

"Is it good den?" The woman asked, like an idiot. I was not in the mood for that.

"'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon." He said, laughing.

The woman straighten her fat back. "Out upon you! What a man you are!"

"One gentlewoman, that god hath made himself to mar." He said, laughing, but something that I could distinctly hear pain in.

"By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' quoth a'?" He said, laughing heartily. "Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?"

"I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse." Romeo spoke to her, ignoring Mercutio's sexual comments. I hated this.

"You say well." The woman said.

"Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely, wisely." Mercutio cracked.

"If you be he, I desire some confidence with you." The Nurse said, taking to ignore Mercutio as well.

"A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!" Mercutio yelled into the air.

Romeo turned sharply toward his friend. "What hast thou found?"

"No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent." He then broke out into song, dancing around the woman. "An old hare hoar, and an old hare hoar, is very fine meat in Lent!" He then turned to Romeo, "But a hare that is hoar, is too much for a score, for a hoar's ere it be spent..." He then hummed, and saw Romeo give him a look. "Romeo? Will you come to our father's? We'll to dinner thither."

Romeo looked to the woman, then nodded at Mercutio and said, "I will follow you." I turned away. This was horrible. I didn't even want to look anymore.

I ran away, just up and sprinted in any direction away from them. I think I felt tears coming from my eyes, and my throat locked up.

By the time I'd found myself in the sycamore grove, I noticed that Mercutio was close at my heels. I wanted to run more, but my legs were so fatigued that I couldn't help but collapse.

"Benvolio, what the hell was that?"

*_* We got the namesake for the Fanfic in this chapter. Great idea, ne? Very clever. *pats himself on back. I had to cheat and ask Mercutio and the Nurse to go over their lines with me, because I was _not _going to memorize this scene. I actually find it sorta boring. Oh, yeah, the back-up name for this chapter was "Be Some Other Name", but I'm saving that for the second to last chapter, which may be at least three chapters from now...Warning next chapters will contain death.*_*


	6. Zounds

'Zounds

*_* I wasn't going to continue this story, I really wasn't. I realized I fucked up on the whole Rosaline business, and that pissed me off 'cause I'd stayed as true to the play as a dude can while writing fan fiction. I decided to continue, 'cause I had an ending in mind and I thought it was good, and many people don't know why Benvolio just isn't in the later scenes. There is a reason Shakespeare had, that I most probably mentioned before, and I'm just expanding this fact, because people ignore it 'cause it was in the first Folio. Wow, this has gotten long, I'll talk to you as Vel after this next, which will not be the last, chapter. *_*

I didn't look at him. I couldn't look at him. I wasn't going to cry. I repeated it over and over in my head, "Thou shall not cry, Benvolio, Thou shall not cry." The funny thing it, as it always happens to work out, my mantra did nothing, and so did the tears flow.

Mercutio followed me directly, and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to sit face up. He squatted next to me, and I couldn't tell if he was disappointed, or laughing, or caring. He was probably laughing. Anyway, I hid my horrible, crying face from his gorgeous visage.

"I asked you what that was all about!" He said, sharply.

No, he wasn't angry. He couldn't be. My Mercutio wasn't angry. Oh, god, _my _Mercutio... "No!" I said, my voice coming out in a hard scream, as though my voice was lost. "This isn't about anything! Go to!" I said to the Prince's nephew.

"Oh, of course it isn't about anything! Of course! Why would it? You just ran like that for no reason!" He said harshly, trying to look at my face.

"No reason at all!" I said, turning away.

He grabbed my arm, and said, in the way he can be seductively mean at the same time, "Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know!" I said, a bit too loud for my own liking. Certainly, at the time, nothing was too my liking, so I guess it's all the same now. "That's the thing, Merc...I don't know! I don't always know! I don't always know the best thing to do, or the best move to make, or the best way to woo your own best friend! I don't know how to lead a war, or to make fun of the Capulets, or to run away, or to have good sex, or even to woo my best friend! I obviously can't do anything, so...I just don't know!" My mind was blank, I screamed out whatever I thought, whatever I didn't think, and whatever I wished I'd thought before.

He looked at me. He didn't say anything, just looked. For a really long time. He just looked really hard at me, stood up, then walked away. I wanted to call him back. My Mercutio. But my voice began to hate me more, and left me as he did. I sat there, wailing silently for a while, then began to stand, toppled over, and just lay there in the sycamore grove. I cried myself dry there, and just lay there even more. For a while, just a little while, I wanted to be Romeo. I wanted to walk his little dainty ass shoes, and live in his stupidly beautiful skin, and fall in love with his romantic, attractive, seductive, funny, masculine, godlike wooer. I thought being him would solve it all. He had so little problems, he feel in love with girls so often, he could do anything he wanted. He wasn't forced into this life of..._goodness. _I thought like that in that sycamore grove, the place Romeo always was. The sky was bright, and it was hot, yet the trees protected me from the sun's rays. I felt like closing my eyes and not sleeping, but just resting them. After I'd cried so much, I wanted to just rest. Life was too busy. Too much went on, I needed a few seconds of entire calm. Calm...

I felt a shoe with tips so pointed I thought they were daggers plunge into my side. I jolted up, and felt my head go dizzy after sitting up so quickly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I heard a high, recognizable voice saying. "I just can't get away from all these damn Montagues can I?" She said.

I looked up to Rosaline's face, with her big poofy dress and excessive layers of makeup. "I don't want to talk now. Go to." I said, and lay back down. I didn't want to follow this dumb girl's antics.

"Oh, well that just makes it all better, Montague." She said, and looked down at me. "Your face is odd. Were you crying?" She said, laughingly.

"No." I answered quickly, as if on cue.

"What would a guy being crying about?" I looked at her, and then did something I really wished I hadn't as I've tended to do all too often these past few days.

"Ask your fiancee."

"Him?" She asked. "And don't call him that. I wouldn't marry that..._fool_ if my life depended on it."

I looked up at her, seeing false hope, fool's gold. "But you're engaged."

"Not like I wanted to be, Montague. I did everything to escape your lovely house, and now I'm engaged to one of them. I told everyone I swore not to marry a man, and I still get married to one of your damn little friends! He's just as good!"

"...So, you were lying?" I asked her. Was this all...not true? Did Romeo have a chance with Rosaline? Did I have a chance with Mercutio?

"Of course I was lying! Who's want to marry that lovesick idiot Romeo? Never! And if you actually thought I swore not to love a man, then you are sorely mistaken, Montague. Men are the world to a girl." She said. At first I immediately thought; _And Mercutio is the world to me. _And then I realized how wrong that was. There was no way I could...ever end up with him. Not here, not now. Verona is a city of lies, lost loves, hatred and bloodshed. Those all go hand in hand. And are the epitome of Verona. Oh, Verona, how bad you are to me.

"Don't call me Montague like that." I said.

"It's your name, Montague." She said. "Go see...what did you call him...my _betrothed _now. And make up this dumb man crying thing." She said, a spear through my chest. "I don't want him in a sour mood when I marry him if I've got to." I stood up. I wasn't going to argue, but I wasn't going to go find Mercutio. Then she added. "Which I'm not."

So I left, without anything else to go. I didn't bed her farewell or any of that nonsense, we are love rivals, though it seems neither of us know it.

I wandered around this horrid city that I grasp onto with my last breath for around an hour, until I found myself with Mercutio. I barely wanted to look at him, but he approached me first. "Good day, Benvolio."

I looked at him, and thought, _Last night never happened. _"Hello, Mercutio."

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"Nowhere."

"It's pretty hot out today." He said.

"Yes," I agreed. "Very hot."

"Benvolio, don't be like this, talk."

I looked around. If I wanted to talk, I couldn't here. I played on his thoughts of the weather. "I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire. The day is hot." I added, "The Capulets are abroad, and if we meet, we shall not escape a brawl. For now, these hot days, is the mad bloody stirring."

He looked at me, and understood, but refuses in his own whimsical way. "Thou art like one of those fellows that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says 'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need."

"Am I as such fellow?" I asked what I thought sounded mysterious.

"Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved." He argued.

"And what to?" I hissed.

"Thou!" He exclaimed, chuckeling. "Why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,  
>or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast:" He said. I winced. "Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!" He said angrily. No, I wouldn't quarrel at everything! I got angry just as you are now! What's so wrong with that, Mercutio, what is so wrong? Is it because I'm "good"? Fuck being good, Merc!<p>

"An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter." I almost screamed.

"The fee-simple! O simple!" He said.

I said nothing else. I turned away, and thought. I thought about everything. I thought about how good I was, and how bad he was. I thought about how smart he was and how stupid I am. I thought about too much and too little. Then, I noticed that annoying, never going away aura. All Capulet's have it, all of them. "By my head," I muttered. "here comes the Capulets."

He looked at my back, and then switched his attention to the goddamn Prince of Cats prancing in this direction. "By my heel, I care not."

It seemed Tybalt did care, though. "Gentlemen, good e'en. A word with one of you."

I sighed and looked at my feet, but Mercutio looked at the poor, poor, Prince of Cats. "And but one word with one of us; couple it with something, make it a word and a blow." He said, in a mix of horrid cheating and some twisted way of sexual bullying.

"You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, if you do give me some occasion." Tybalt said, slicking his disgusting hair back.

"Cans't thou not take some occasion without giving?" Mercutio said. I could tell he wanted Tybalt gone, but still wanted to play with my clay feelings.

"Mercutio..." Tybalt almost whined. "Thou consortest with Romeo."

Mercutio almost cracked up. "Consort? what, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords:" He laughed, obviously coming up with something funny. "Here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance." Then he muttered, "'Zounds, consort!"

"We talk here in the public haunt of men:" I motioned to the house nearby. "Either withdraw unto some private place, and reason coldly of your grievances, or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us."

"Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;" He exclaimed loudly into the hustle and bustle of the street. "I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I." He said right to Tybalt.

Then of all people, Romeo came dancing through that very same house.

*_* I think I'll leave you there...Hahaha! That actually gives me joy. You know something interesting is going to happen next, you know it! I really didn't want Rosaline in this chapter, but I couldn't have Benvolio laying around being a bum for a couple of hours. I watched the clip Histoire de le Coeur linked me too. I watched it about 20 times and laughed through all of them. Thank you, so, so much for showing me that. I wish I had seen it sooner. During Mercutio's antics, there would be a mega reference.*_*


	7. Dance, Prince, Dance!

The Dance

*_* Ah, I was so bored before writing this. Do any of you guys like any specific pairings in other universes other than R&J? I'm mostly an anime person, but I love Shakespeare. I need more to write, but I only know what I want to write, not what the world wants. But, you know, I suppose the whole point on is to write what you want, and see if other people want it! It still makes me sad looking at the zero reviews on my other usernames... D: *_*

Tybalt nodded at Mercutio sarcastically. "Well, peace be with you, sir!" When you spend enough time with these rivals, you understand how movements can be so utterly sarcastic. "Here comes my man."

Mercutio growled, "But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'"

Tybalt, in ignorance to Mercutio, confronted poor, beloved Romeo. "Romeo!" He exclaimed, "The hate I bear thee can afford no better term than this: Thou art a _villan."_

Romeo did not look to me or Mercutio, but seemed to beg Tybalt in a most un-Romeo way. "Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting:" He said, and reached his hand out to the Capulet. "Villain am I none! Therefore farewell." He said, as Tybalt did not talk his hand. He nodded in his direction. "I see thou know'st me not."

"Boy!" Tybalt said, grippind Romeo's attention towards him again. "This shall not excuse the injury thou hast done me!" He put his hand on his sword. "Therefore, turn and draw."

I should've stopped this. Oh, god, or whatever divine being dost live in the skies the grounds or the airs, if only time turned back and I'd acted as a Benevolio should have. It would solve everything. But, nay, I'd been a fool, I'd been bad. Time dost not turn back for the unwise.

"I do protest, I never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise," Romeo exclaimed, and put his hand up surrendering. Mercutio got even angrier at this line begging for peace. Tybalt then removed his hand from his sword, faking peace, then pushed Romeo backwards. Romeo stammered to retain balance, saying: "Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: and so, good Capulet,-" Tybalt pushed Romeo to the ground, and Romeo reached his hand to guard his goddamn pretty little face, and continued. "Which name I tender as dearly as my own,-be satisfied." And Tybalt kicked Romeo in the stomach. Mercutio roared a curse that not I could understand, and unsheather his sword, jumping in front of who he loved.

"Calm, dishonorable, vile submission!" He screamed. "Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?"

Tybalt took a step back, feigning innocence. "What woulds't thou have with me?"

Mercutio screamed, in a fit of anger, hatred, and all things Verona, "Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the eight! Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out!"

"I am for you." Tybalt stated, drawing his own sword.

Romeo exclaimed, standing, "Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up."

"Come, sir, your passado." Mercutio said, motioning Tybalt to slash first.

Tybalt threw his sword out, only to be blocked expertly by Mercutio. I tried to close my eyes, but couldn't. I couldn't really move. It all happened in fast forward motion, swords flashing, blood splattering, and then grunting. It was ugly. Horrible. _Horrible. _

Romeo scream out for them to stop, even begged for me to help, but I couldn't. Some invisible voice held him to his spot, only to let him writhe away. I, differently, had a thousand little swords being jutted into my skin at once. He wasn't free, but I couldn't move. I only felt pain. I was aware of my entire body, but it was new. Not my body. Not someone else's. I was in an invisble iron maiden, and the forces of nature disallowed me to move. I wanted to help, dearly did I. Peace vs. me. Benvolio vs...Benvolio. No! I was peaceful. Oh, god, no...

Romeo threw himself guarding Mercutio who had been thrown to the ground. Tybalt moved back. Mercutio didn't get back up, and Romeo moved toward Tybalt. He was free of his chains, so why not I?

"I am hurt." Mercutio said. I wished I'd understood sooner. He looked to Romeo then to Tybalt, but not to me. Why not to me? "A plague o'er both your houses!" He exclaimed to the two of them, Tybalt is utter fear. He looked as though he'd glimpsed at a death unknown to everyone. A demon... He ran. He just ran away, he bloodied sword with him. "I am sped. Is he gone and hath nothing?" Mercutio said. Don't ask for that horrid man, my love, ask for me. Oh, please ask for me.

"What..." I stammered. "Art thou hurt?" What I fool I was.

"Ay, ay...a scratch, a scratch." Mercutio looked at his side, and then to the sky. "Marry...tis enough." Then he whispered, so I could barely hear him, "Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon!"

"Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much." Romeo said. No! It is! Oh, go back. He's dying, save him, think him true!

"No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for  
>me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world." He said, and then looked back to Romeo. "A plague o' both your houses!" He said, and pointed to the direction Tybalt fled. "'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat," he gasped, "to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!" Do not speak of that horrid man. He's terrible. He'll be dead, don't worry of him! Then he spoke to Romeo, yet still not to me. "Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm."<p>

Romeo sputtered in zero understanding. "I th-thought all for the best."

Mercutio fell to his knees and screamed in pain. "Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint." I ran to him, that beautiful man, that god among humans, that diamond among mud. "A plague 'o both your houses! They have made wormsmeat of me! I'll have it; and soundly too: you're houses!" He cursed, and I used all the weight that I didn't have to carry him into the church. I looked into his eyes, but they had already closed, tired for the eternal rest that waited to come.

"Mercutio, don't leave me. Oh, please, don't." I said, not able to form words. "Mercutio, I love you. I love you so much it hurts when I'm not with you. Don't leave me forever, oh please don't."

"Romeo..." He said, gasping. He still breathed, he needed to say words, last words. "I love you, Romeo..." He said. At first, I didn't understand. Now I do. He thought I was that perfect person. My cousin. "But...end this. End this! A plague o' both your fucking houses..." He said, and fell limp in my arms.

I did not fell tears falling down my face. I didn't feel them. I wish for them. I wanted to cry, I wanted him! My Mercutio! That...cat, that villain, that monster killed my Mercutio. But he wasn't mine. Romeo, you evil...You.

I rose to my feet.

I ran out to meet _him. _I screamed at him, my voice in shambles. "Romeo!" I said louder, not even looking at him. "Romeo!...Brave Mercutio is dead."

Romeo said something but I didn't hear him. I hated him. I hated everyone. I hate Romeo, I hate Rosaline, I hate Mercutio, I hate myself, and I hate... "Here's comes that furious Tybalt back again."

Romeo screamed words, words I didn't care to recognize. Mercutio was gone. Swords began to smash against one another, moved I didn't care to recognize. Mercutio was gone. Yelps of pain were audible, but I did not care to register them. Mercutio was gone. He left me. He left Romeo. He left this world. He left Verona.

I only realized where I was when a body fell right next to me. Romeo—No, Tybalt. His face was in a permanent state of turmoil, and a sword was thrown up into his chest. He smelled like blood. Romeo stood above him, his hands red with blood. He stared at those hands dyed. He didn't look at those two people he killed, but his own bloody hands.

I screamed at him. I wanted that bastard gone. "Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, if thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!"

"I am fortune's fool!" He yelled to me.

"Why dost thou stay?" I said, and slapped him across the face. His hand rose to his cheek, but he ran. Run, you bastard, run. And never come back

Someone ran up to me, and idiot, and yelled "Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?"

"There lies that Tybalt." I told the fool, fire in my voice I cared not hide.

"Up, sir, go with me. I charge thee in the Prince's name!" Another fool screamed.

No, I didn't want to deal with these people. Not when everyone...everything betrayed me. I hate them. I hate them all.

Prince fucking Escalus and his stupid crew of power-hungry whorish Montagues and Capulets pranced out onto that damn city square in this horrid city. Like they had not a car in the world, the fools. Everyone is a fool. No one understands! I don't understand!

"Where are the vile beginners of this fray?" He screamed, not angry in the least, but kingly and royal, and seemingly above our foolish antics. I hate it. I _hate _them.

"O noble prince," I said, sarcasm dripping from my broken voice, "I can discover all the unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: there lies the man," I said, pointing my fingers—Ah, now I remember, all the pointing of fingers here! "slain by young Romeo, that slew thy kinsman, _brave_ Mercutio."

That damn bitch, the Lady of the Capulet house, probably related to Rosaline, ran out to Tybalt and made him seem like some type of martyr. "Tybalt, my cousin, Oh, my brother's child! O, prince!" She said, gasping, "O, cousin, Oh husband, the blood is spilt 'o my dear kinsman." Then she looked at that horrid princely prince. "Prince, as thou art true, has blood of ours shed blood of Montague?" Then for dramatic effect, she added, "Oh cousin, oh, cousin!"

The prince in all his damn glory and...and he...well, now I can't quite remember why I hated him...said, "Benvolio! Who began this bloody fray?"

"Tybalt! Here slain, whom _Romeo_'s hand did slay; Romeo that spoke him fair," I said, mocking Romeo's "love" of the man. "Bade him bethink how nice the quarrel was, and urged withal your high displeasure: all this uttered with gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, could not take truce with the unruly spleen of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts with piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast," I said, gasping for breath, for words, for recollections of the scene that I'd cared so much for, yet hadn't seen right. "Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, and, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats cold death aside, and with the other sends it back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than his tongue, his agile arm beats down their fatal points, and 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm an envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; but by and by comes back to Romeo, who had but newly entertain'd revenge, and to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly." I said, trying to think of the scene. They all were horrible, yet greater than I, who did nothing. Then I screamed, wishing for it to happen: "This is the truth, or let Benvolio die!"

Lady Montague in all her evilness, convinced not that Tybalt was as hated as the rest, said, trying to act royal like the Prince, "He's a kinsman to Montague, affection makes him false!" I scoffed at this. Me, affection? Never. I am filled of hatred. I've no affection given nor returned to these monsters! "I beg for justice!" She said. How incredibly fake it was! "Which, thou, Prince, must give! Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live." Let him die! I'll do it by my own hand if I have to! Then kill me! Aye, that's the way it must go. End the cycle...

"Romeo slew Tybalt, he slew Mercutio, who now the price of this dear blood doth owe?" The Prince asked the crowd. No...should Romeo die? That ruiner of all? Should he be thrown from this life? No, it was me...it was all me, who didn't act...

"Not Romeo, Prince!" I screamed. "He was Mercutio's friend." And not mine. "His fault concludes, but what the law should end: The life of Tybalt!"

"And for that offence, immediately we do exile him hence: I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, my blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; but I'll amerce you with so strong a fine that you shall all repent the loss of mine: I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Bear hence this body and attend our will: mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill."

And they all left. They took those cursed bodies and left. I, otherwise, stayed on that street.

I'd done nothing. I fought not! So why was I so tired. Oh, I could sleep forever.

Romeo...banished?

Why not I? Why always Romeo and never I?

Romeo, you've been given the world. The world is yours, and you've escaped this hell called Verona.

*_* Why the hell is Benvolio so calm? It pisses me off. Even if he was sobbing here it would be hard to write. Gnah! This got sorta long...I think. I'm not sure. The story will be ending sorta soon, but look forward to next chapters. There will be more deaths! DEATH. Oh, wow, that was even awkward to type. I'm reading a really good Durarara! ShizuoxIzaya fanfic right now, and somehow their hatred mixed with love is acting in there. Anime...Since I don't think I've brought it up, for a R&J fan, there's a hilarious anime called Romeo x Juliet. It's all futuristic, and if I may say so myself, Tybalt is hot and asian. Go Tybalt! I wanted to write more for you. Okay, just to make you people talk...Do you think Tybalt wears reading glasses? He so does. It works so well! Okay, anyway... Seeya next time. You think I should update faster? I should, but all my chapters are all feely feely 'cause most of the dialogue was already written. Ew feely feely. How do I write so much here, but so little up there? ARGNAH. *_*


	8. Come, thou, Day in Night

Oh, come thou day into Night.

*_* I feel so horrible with the ending...Oh dear, I may kill you guys with it. But I may not. It'll be in a few chapters. Very few. I don't think this is a chapter to skim, because the Benvolio looking back on it all is still very confused. I really wanted to have a Twelfth Night quote in here, but Shakespeare wrote it after R&J. Ragh! Why did Shakespeare throw in those couple of awkward days where nothing happens? I have to have Benvolio laze around! Thanks a lot, Shakespeare!*_*

I didn't sleep that night. Only when I got in bed, through the covers over my head, and didn't think, did I cry.

I sobbed, it was...it wasn't...It didn't happen! It couldn't have happened? Why you Mercutio? Why not me, or Romeo, or anyone else? Why can none of us ever love again? I love you, Mercutio, and I always will.

Now and always can I never love a woman, or a man...or anyone. Not if it isn't Mercutio. No one! They're all too stupid, too innocent, too boring, too good, to Montague, too Capulet, too Romeo, too uneventful, too afraid, too...not Mercutio.

I will never love. Never again.

I threw a book open, it already had words all over it, and with the tears still falling from my face onto the pages, I wrote everything I felt.

_Never had someone like I been able to keep pace,_

_ with someone like him with a smiling face,_

I crossed it out, threw the book across the room. I took another one, held this one lightly in my hand, noticing the musty book smell, the ripped pages. I wrote in this one also, but only in the margins, as to not disturb the writing in the book.

_I did everything for him. I went along with him, I saved him, I fought for him, I was good for him, bad for him and _everything _in between. Yet, I will never be the one noticed. _

_ Humans tend to love he who will never love you back. He'll never love me back! No, humans choose someone of their own gender, someone of a different family, or someone who loves someone already. Not a day goes by when he does not gaze to who he loves, gives them pleasures, helps them, does everything with them. You'd think he'd notice when someone like me mirrored the same actions on him. I try to act like him, I really do! I make everything the same joking way, I throw away morals and joy and sadness and my own namesake, yet he shall never give me second thought._

_ I can never measure up to who he loves, so I will forever be in this abyss._

_ He died with that man's name on his tongue, and never mine. He didn't pay me, the one who begged him not to live, a glance! No, he's selfish, unloving, and stupid!_

_ Oh, but I love him, and shall never speak ill of the dead. _

I paused myself in writing. What was I doing then, right then? I smiled to myself.

_And now I see I am mirroring who my love loved's way of life. Locking myself in my room, creating an artificial night. Yet, everything good happens at night, does it not? At night, everything is lost. Morals are forgotten, good mixes with bad in a wave of sex, and hatred is forgotten. _

_ Hatred is forgotten during the night._

_ The reasons why you can't love who you do are lost during the night._

_ Oh, his laugh during the night. They way his eyes glistened during the night. The stories he made up at night. He lived in the night, and died during the day. The goddamn day stole him from me! It stole my love! Oh, day, end. Will this day ever end?_

For I'd written into morning. Ha.

That's proof of my idea. They call it morning, and it's supposed to be all happy. Yay! Tybalt is dead. But Romeo is banished, and Mercutio is dead. Mourning. This morning brings mourning.

I rose. No point in being a Romeo, except you get offered whatever you want. I walked to the door. I pulled at the door knob, but it wouldn't open. Had someone locked it? I pulled on it even harder, but the door wouldn't budge. Fuck! Who would do that. I fell to the floor. It was cold. The door was cold. The slowly drying tear lines down my face was cold. Why was everything so cold? The room was freezing.

I used all my strength to stand up. I ran to the side, grasped the book. I opened it. It was on poison and medicine. It was a religious book...probably given to me by Friar John. I could barely focus on the wording.

Wait...poison...had I been poisoned? I wasn't strong enough to open the door, I couldn't see straight, and I was very cold...maybe someone was trying to kill me.

Who? I thought of everyone. Mercutio could be doing this as a joke...no! He's dead. Maybe Tybalt, as a stupid murder attem—No! He's dead too! I coughed, and fell to my knees. What was happening to me?

I hadn't slept all night, but I was cold, so, so, tired. Why not go to sleep for just a while?

* * *

><p>I realized I was awake, but didn't want to open my eyes. What point was there?<p>

I probably wasn't dead. I _wished _I was dead, and that was exactly why I probably wasn't. You can never be so sure, though.

I felt my head start pounding, though. I put my hand to my head, starting to sit up, but it stung with dizziness, and I fell back into my pillow...Mine? How _had I _gotten to the bed...?

I opened my eyes, thought they were heavy.

What had just happened?

Oh...Mercutio was dead. My world was dead. I...should be dead? No, that never happened. Did it?

I stared at the ceiling...what had happened the previous day? It was Monday. Yeah, it was Monday. Or Tuesday. No, no. It was Sunday. No! It wasn't Sunday, it was Monday.

Yeah...he died. _Wait! _You're best friend _died. _I reached up, and brought the blanket closer to my face, and felt my face getting red and tears swelling.

Romeo was gone too...They all were gone. You had no one left! Yourself, Benvolio, you've got yourself, damnit!

_But I haven't got myself without him here._

Don't be a girl, Benvolio. You can live.

_But I can't. I just can't. I am in love with a man, therefore I must be slightly girlish._

That's not the way it works, Ben. And you can live. You are now, aren't you?

_I don't think. Am I dead? I hope I'm dead._

You're not dead.

_Fuck. _

The door opening interrupted my argument with myself. Had their been something going on with that door yesterday?...

"Oh, Benvolio you're awake." I tried to focus my eyes on the person in front of me.

"Uncle?" I guessed.

"Yes, who else would it be." He said, though very grimly. I didn't mention any of the many other people it could be. "You've got a terrible fever."

"Oh...why?" I asked.

"I wouldn't know. It seems my wife, your aunt, is down with the same thing."

"I haven't been around any sick people." I said, on automatic.

"You know as well as I do that that doesn't matter." He muttered.

I put my hand on my head, terrified. "No...it couldn't be." I said, shrinking back, openly letting the fear show on my face.

"We can never be sure." He said, his voice deep as it always had been.

I thought about it for a second, then something clicked. "F-friar John helped people that had it, maybe I..."

"I won't let you. I will not let either of you die!" He screamed, getting very emotional all of a sudden. "She hasn't woken up yet! I'm not letting another drop of Montague blood go to waste!"

"So what? You want us to stay in this house forever?" I said, matching his level. I sat up with anger. Woah, no, my body is not permitting that, and put my hand back to my head.

"If you're that sick you may as well." He said, then stood up. "You better go wash and cool yourself off. Pray you're not infected." He was done arguing with me...if that is arguing.

Infected...I was infected? No...the plague wasn't something I would get.

What if I did? Would I join Mercutio in heaven?

I looked at the ceiling. The paint was peeling.

It was truly one of the biggest wastes of time I've ever done in my life, so I'm not going to depth, but I must've spent a couple of hours thinking about peeling paint, and how it was a metaphor for life, and other deep things like that. I seriously depressed myself when thinking about _peeling paint. _Looking back on it now, I was a real idiot, I really was.

So when I finally realized how stupid it was to get so involved thinking about peeling paint, I got up, without anywhere to go. The Friar. Ah, yes the Friar knows what you should do when people die.

I walked along the cobblestone street. It was cloudy, it would probably rain soon. I realized that I was an idiot to walk around out in the open where there was a big chance I had caught the plague.

Peeling paint. It just keeps on peeling. First the pain was all pretty, and nice, then it tears. It gets ripped up into a billion pieces. Fuck.

*_* I have no idea, but I was staring up at the ceiling, and I had no ideas, so I'm like...paint. Yeah. I've got something planned. Did I give anyone a scare that Benvolio had been poisoned? I really want to finish this story before school ends, so let's go! I'll try to update more often, like everyday or every other day. *_*


	9. FIN Anything of Nothing First Create

*_ * I decided to finish this story. This is the last chapter. It is short, and it is a little sad. *_*

Around me, a normal morning was apparent. Or maybe happier than normal. I couldn't tell. My world was faded, shadows sprung from the sun, and my eyes seemed to only see through the browned pages of old parchment. It was so, so cold outside, but everyone wore happy clothing.

I felt a warm, itchy feeling in the bridge of my nose, and sneezed. "Bless you." A passerby said, and I froze, all my muscled seemed to tense with fear. Had I caught the plague? No, no, you couldn't have, Ben. You're just fooling yourself.

I looked back to the door of the household. I should go back, heed the words of my uncle. He was going through a rough time, he needent more disrespectful kinsmen.

I continued to wander the streets, tears flowing down my face, and I couldn't remember just when I had started crying. I was so tired.

I found myself in front of the Friar. I should speak to him. There is no sin that cannot be forgiven if confessed for, except lack of faith…and I still had faith, hadn't I? I was not fully a member of Sodom, was I? I knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, I went in.

"Hello." I looked to where the voice came from.

"Hello, Friar." I said, nodding politely. "Is Friar Lawrence in?"

"No. I suppose you know there is a wedding next morn in the Montague household?" The Friar said.

"No, I hadn't heard of that." I said.

"Well then, maybe you can speak with me? I'm sure I can help you in some way."

I paused. Friar Lawrence, I might, just might, have been able to confess to. But this man, who I didn't even know the name of, could I? "You may not be able to. I don't even know what to say."

"What do you mean, lad?"

"…I have sinned in ways maybe unforgivable." I said, stammering a bit over my words.

"The Lord forgives all sins, my boy, and since you have come here to seek help, surely you still have faith."

"I do hope, Friar."

"Now tell me, what is your trouble? Maybe I can counsel you." The Friar said. He was nice, too benevolent.

I sat down, and sat across a table that had different herbs thrown all over it. "Well, I am a Montague, my name is Benevolio. A lot has occurred throughout the last through days. My best friend, my source of life, and my kinsmen all in the same person was murdered by a Capulet, the recently deceased Tybalt. This Capulet was then killed by mine other friend, Romeo, who has been banished. Everyone I know has just been killed. I know not what to do, Friar." I said, halfheartedly. This was not going to work. "Friar, I think I must go."

"No, stay here, boy. People have had everyone they knew killed throughout time. You must get through it. God will-."

"I'm sorry, but I must be going." I said, and shut the door behind me.

My mind was blank. Death surrounded me, everywhere I looked. Withering flowers, rotten fruit, meat being sold. So I thought, if I am so sick, why not join the death why not finish it all?

The idea grew on me. I could join Mercutio, and now he would only be mine. I could go back to the times were I fought Tybalt, I even missed those. I could live my own life again, but in death.

What if I go to hell? I have sinned. No, when that door closed, I had given up faith in God. I will find whatever reaches me at the end of my own life.

It was all I could think of. Now, my mind was filled with a most happy kind of Death. Looking back on it, it was frightening. Demented. I had convinced myself of an underworld, as the Greeks had called it, where I would meet everyone I knew, and relive my life. I was all too happy to die, and even, in my lazy state at the time, excited to meet my end. I didn't know where to look to, so I looked to the only person I knew would help, who was dead. I was a fool.

How to die? I wondered if there was anywhere to get fatal poison? Or could I just slit my own gullet? No, I wanted to die the way everyone else did. By the sword. Who could I get to kill me? Oh, I bet Tyb—he was dead already.

I opened the door to the household. A servant ran up to me. "Benvolio, sir, something horrible has happened! Please come with me." No…no more horrible things. I'm done with horrible things. Still, the woman pulled me with her, and up to my aunt and uncle's room. The sight I was met with was, truly, horrible.

Lady Montague lay on the bed, and Lord Montague kneeled at the bedside, tear falling from his face. I ran up to her, and touched her. Her skin was icy cold, and there was no hint of her breathing. She was dead. I stood up, and there were no tears. I think I didn't have any left. I had cried enough to last my now short lifetime. I walked out of the room. I left the house. Too much death for one household. It was stained. The family stained with its own blood. Surely, Benvolio adding to that stain wouldn't do anything, the blood already ran too dark.

I found myself at the sycamore grove, though I didn't remember how I got there. It didn't really matter. I was like an old cat, wandering off to find a place alone to die. So, under the canopy of the sycamore trees, I unsheathed my sword, positioned it right under my ribcage pointing up, and pushed it in.

Suprisingly, it was uneventful. No person in a cape with a scythe came, I had no flashbacks of joy, I just felt pain, and then nothingness.

And then, somehow, I felt somethingness.

I was in extreme darkness, and there was nothing near me. I couldn't see, it was so dark, and my eye never adapted. I was knee deep in some substance, but I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if I existed, because I was no cold, nor was I warm, and I felt no pain. I never got unbalanced. I just…was. Or maybe I wasn't.

Sometimes I passed by someone. I didn't hear them, nor did I see them, but I could just tell that they were there. We exchanged stories, told each other everything about ourselves. Opened our hearts, and poured them out to the other person. We could stay a few seconds, or a billion years together, but we always parted ways, and continued to walk. My legs never hurt, and I could never remember the other person's story, no matter how hard I tried.

I wish, though, I still wish, someday, if time exists here, that I can meet Mercutio.

The End.

*_* In Shakespeare's 4th Folio, there was notes that Benevolio died when Lady Montague "died of sadness" It was pretty much, "oh, and Benvolio too." It did not say how. I formed this story and forgot about it to explain it in that matter…and I just noticed, this is really sucky yaoi isn't it? It barely counts, XD. *_*


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